The Road Less Travelled
by ScorpioPhoenix
Summary: You know the story. Boy meets boy. But what about skilled in hand to hand combat pretty eyed sneaky gay boy meets straight southern homophobic zombie killer with major issues boy and they fall into a disaster? Or is it love? Paul and Daryl can't tell the difference. But do they even want to figure it out. Daryl Dixon/Paul "Jesus" Rovia
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first fic for The Walking Dead. I'm a huge fan of Daryl and I've always wondered why he never had a love interest. Daryl deserves to have someone love him and for him to give of himself for love. Now that the show has whispered that there may be a love interest in his future, it only made sense that it be the Paul Rovia. So this is my version of their love story. Will update once a week, should be about 12 chapters. Hope you enjoy! Please leave a review!**

 **This story doesn't include Negan.**

 **Disclaimer: These characters belong to the world of The Walking Dead Comics and tv show.**

Chapter 1

Daryl rolled his eyes as Paul began tapping out a rhythm less tune on the dashboard of the van with his fingers. Of all the people he could have ended up with during this excursion, it had to be with _this_ guy. Something about the other man made him…uneasy. Daryl wasn't sure exactly what it was, but being close to him set his senses alight and his synapses firing. Paul had proven to be a good ally and fighter, and everyone else seemed to have accepted his presence, but Daryl could never really relax around him.

Maybe it was because he was a rhythm less bastard. Or that people called him Jesus. _Jesus._

"Shut up, man. That sucks, you know."

Daryl watched as Paul's head swiveled towards him and his ridiculous looking big green eyes lit up with humor. His lips twitched with that stupid familiar smirk and Daryl wanted to punch him. He literally had to grip the steering wheel to keep from sending his head through the window.

"Someone's touchy," Paul said, grinning, "what's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," Daryl mumbled and turned back to the road, "Better not be a waste of time. Lot of gas we're using, so you'd better be right."

Paul made a face at him and Daryl fought the punching urge again. "I'm good for it. You think I'd have us all out here for nothing. I know what I saw, let's just hope it's not completely empty."

Daryl grunted, but didn't respond. He peeked into the rearview to make sure that Abraham and Spencer were still behind them in the truck. The group was out on a long supply run, based on Paul's recollection of seeing some stores during his many recruitment trips for Hilltop. He'd seen the stores several months right around the time he'd met Rick and Daryl with the truck fiasco. That had been almost a year ago now, but still worth a look-see.

They'd been traveling for almost two days now and Daryl was ready to find this place. Two days in a car with Paul…

"Okay, we're getting close," Paul said excitedly, sitting up and peering out the window. "The houses…I remember these. Place is about ten more minutes." It was getting dark and they would have to figure out the landscape before they did anything.

Daryl grunted in response and grabbed the walkie talkie from beside Paul, brushing his leg in the process. Paul didn't seem to notice, but Daryl jerked his hand away from him, almost flinging the device through the windshield. He cursed and Paul laughed, the sound ringing in Daryl's ears.

"Relax, Daryl," Paul said soothingly, as though he was a wild beast ready to run, "we'll get something. Got to."

"Fuck you," Daryl said, angry but not sure why. He gripped the walkie like his life depended on it and called out to Abraham. "We're about ten minutes out. Ya'll still good?"

Abraham's voice rang out through the walkie, causing both Daryl and Paul to wince and they smirked at each other. "Affirmative. Ready to go. Locked and loaded. Gotta piss like a racehorse, so let's hurry it up, ladies."

Daryl snorted, tossed the walkie to Paul, who caught it easily and sped up, hoping to shorten the time. It was time to drain the snake, so to speak.

After a few more minutes of driving, Paul points and says, "Yesss…there it is! I knew I remembered it right."

Daryl slows the van down and pulls into a parking lot, littered with abandoned cars and some trash. He stares at the building in front of him and then turns towards Paul with a look of amazement.

"Holy shit, man."

Paul gives a shit-eating grin and jumps out of the car, just as Abraham and Spencer climb out of theirs.

"Wal-fucking-mart!" Abraham roars and Spencer gapes at the building.

Daryl is excited and eager to find out what's left in the place. It would be the mother lode of runs if the store was still intact and hadn't been looted dry. None of them had seen a Walmart since the end of the world had started, except Paul. All the annoyance that Daryl had been feeling towards the other man disappeared as he got out of the car. The sun was setting lower and there were several walkers milling around the front of the store, but none had moved towards them yet.

"We're gonna have to wait until morning," Daryl says reluctantly, "We don't want to risk getting caught in there in the dark. We also don't want to attract any attention either…in case there's other groups."

Spencer nodded, but Abraham frowned. "Well, can we at least kill those now? Less to do in the morning."

Daryl shrugged, but Paul shook his head. "Leave them. Might agitate the ones inside if there are some. Will make more come. Let's just wait."

Abraham looked ready to argue, but then closed his mouth. "Right. First light then." He headed back towards the truck with Spencer following behind. Daryl turned towards Paul, who was staring at the store with an intense look.

"What's up?" Daryl asked him, nodding towards the store. "Problem?"

Paul looked at him and smiled. "No, no problem. I'm just glad that I managed to remember how to get back here. This will do good for our communities. There has to be something still in there. We didn't come all this way for there not to be."

"Better not have," Daryl said, as he headed towards the back of the van, where their sleeping bags were neatly rolled up. "But this is a good spot." He nodded towards a small hill. "There looks like more over there."

"Told you," Paul says with an even bigger grin, "Have I ever been wrong?"

"All the damn time," Daryl growled out and Paul sneers at him, "but you came through on this one." Daryl turns away in slight embarrassment as Paul perks up, clearly pleased by the compliment. It's a rare thing to get a compliment out of the sullen hunter and Daryl doesn't hand them out lightly. But watching Paul start preening like a peacock is just too much for him.

Both men climb into the back of the van, after taking care of their biological needs. Daryl wasn't completely happy with the sleeping arrangements, but he hadn't wanted to come off sounding like a dick because he couldn't explain the reason about why Paul made him uneasy.

And why did the man make him uneasy?

Paul had proven to be trustworthy, even Rick trusted him. And Rick trusted no one but his own. After that whole truck fiasco, Paul had redeemed himself, and Daryl wasn't even still angry about how he had made Rick and him look like fools. That had been a year ago anyway and Paul had been nothing but decent since, making his time between Hilltop and Alexandria. He'd been on runs with him and everything.

Maybe it was his eyes. Daryl found Paul's eyes to be…well…nice. Pretty eyes. And no man's eyes should attract his attention. It was bullshit. If his eyes were on a woman, then Daryl might feel differently about it. He would definitely find them nice. But not on Paul. Whenever Paul looked at him with those big green eyes, Daryl wanted to punch things. Mostly Paul's face.

But not his eyes.

Jesus.

* * *

"Okay, here's the plan," Daryl said, "We hit those out front. Then take what comes…we stay together. The store could be full up."

"I'd kill everything in there sure as day," Abraham said, with a shrug of his shoulders. "This is a Walmart. Do you know what could be in there? We have to clean this."

"All right, let's go", Daryl said as he glanced at Paul. Paul gave Daryl a nod, his eyes twinkling. Daryl rolled his eyes and they all headed towards the front of the store, their knives at the ready. Walkers began shambling towards them, moaning and growling and the foursome quickly dispatched them. Once they were put down, they worked on prying open the sliding doors, while several walkers inside the store began to gather and reaching for them.

"On three," Daryl called, when the doors loosened enough for them to get through, "here they come."

With a controlled jerk of the door, they began dispatching the walkers. They pushed their way, stabbing and slashing as they went, blood and brains flying everywhere. Abraham grinned the whole time, thoroughly enjoying the carnage; Spencer less so, but he kept up. Daryl worked alongside Paul, and the two were efficient as they moved forward into the store. They had a nice pattern going, smooth, quick and clean. Within about ten minutes, the tide had ended and the group stood in the main entrance of a Walmart.

"Wal-fucking-mart!" Abraham shouted.

They each grab a cart and head off in various directions. The store was mostly intact, but it had been hit before. There were empty shelves, but there was still enough there to fill both vehicles several times over. Spencer was in charge of food, Abraham was in charge of finding weapons. Paul was in charge of useful supplies and Daryl for everything else that may be of use.

Daryl came upon an aisle full of batteries and flashlights, and he quickly filled his cart. He moved around to the next aisle and saw lighters and candles. He knelt down to grab some up.

"Hey man, you might need to watch it there," came Paul's amused voice. Daryl glanced up and saw a stumbling walker lurching towards him. Paul was leaning on his filled cart, which was full of Band-Aids and toilet paper, on the opposite end of his row.

Daryl grunted in annoyance, saw a broken shelf leaning against the other shelves, grabbed it and slapped the walker across the head, which immediately sent said head rolling off its shoulders and landed with a thud several feet away. The body kept walking towards him and Daryl kicked it away, and stabbed the eye rolling head. Daryl felt a bit irritated that Paul had just happened along and saved him, because he hadn't even heard the walker coming. Hell, he hadn't even heard _him_ coming.

 _Sneaky bastard._

"Fuck, man! You need a goddamned bell!"

Paul gave him a small smile and spread his hands in surrender. "Now that wouldn't be very smart. I'd have every walker from here to Timbuktu following us."

"Well at least you'd be useful then," Daryl grumbled in irritation as Paul smirked. "Bait for these dead heads." He jerked a nod at his cart. "What else you see?"

Paul's smile was brilliant and Daryl blinked. The way his eyes looked right then. _Fuck._

"Everything. We could fill up for days. I'm getting another cart. We should start loading. Check if anything's coming."

"Yeah, okay." Daryl grabbed several more items and followed behind the other man as they hurried to the front of the store, keeping an eye open for Spencer and Abraham. The other two were already at the front of the store, loaded down with stuff.

"Let's start loading," Abraham said and he began kicking a path through the dead walkers to the front door. He disappeared while Spencer waited. After several trips of filled carts, both truck and van were almost full. They had room for maybe one more load of stuff. Daryl and Paul grabbed more carts and hurried off.

They ended up near sporting goods and Daryl's eyes widened when he saw a magnificent crossbow, even better than the one he used to have. He raced over to it and picked it up, touching it reverently.

"Yes, baby, come to Daddy," Daryl purred at it and put it in his cart and grabbed several boxes of arrows. There were hunting knives too and he grabbed those as well. He hauled his catch out the main aisle and seized a second cart, when Paul's shout distracted him. He hurried in the direction of the noise and found Paul fighting off three walkers, who had emerged from the stockroom area. As Daryl reached him, several more came through the rubber doors and the two men began to battle them.

"Watch it!" Paul yelled as a chomping mouth almost gnawed off Daryl's ear.

"Shit, man!" Daryl shouted in warning as a half body crawled and tried to pull itself up on Paul's leg, causing the other man to dance away cursing.

More walkers began pouring out from the stockroom and Daryl decided it was time to let it go.

"Come on! Let's go! Who knows how many are in there!" He pulled at Paul's jacket and the other man turned towards him, his face full of gore and blood. Paul back stepped, grabbed his carts and tore up the aisle, Daryl close behind with his one.

Shit! His crossbow!

But he didn't have to time to worry about it because a pair of reaching hands grabbed him through a shelf. Daryl pulled free and raced towards the front. Abraham and Spencer had another load of carts when the pair ran up.

"We've got company. A lot of it." Paul said quickly, glancing behind them. "They'll be here in a minute."

Abraham nodded. "Yeah, got some nosy fucks coming outside too. But we got a major haul. Let's get out of here!" They all pushed their carts outside to the waiting van and hurriedly began loading it up.

"Arrrghhh!" Spencer cried out as a walker shambled up and grabbed him. Daryl helped him to end it, while Abraham just threw things into the back. Walkers flowed out of the front doors and Paul pushed back in, stabbing and slashing. There were still two carts left and he was determined to get them. He managed to grab both carts, and shoved those forwards out the doors, with one cart mowing down a walker. A big group of walkers headed towards him and Paul dodged them neatly, but saw the front door was now blocked while the three battled outside.

"Hey, dead heads! Come here!" Paul shouted recklessly and several turned and ambled towards him. Outside he could see that Daryl was looking in his direction. "I'll catch up!"

Daryl groaned as Paul disappeared from view, but several walkers had moved away from the doors. He ran to grab the waiting carts and threw everything he could into the back. Where the hell did that asshole go? Spencer and Abraham were slashing at several walkers who had appeared from the parking lot and Daryl raced over to help finish them off.

"Go, go!" Daryl yelled as the last one fell with a splat on the ground. He turned when he saw a quick movement from the front doors and sighed in relief when Paul materialized and had slammed the van doors shut.

"Let's go!" Paul yelled as he ran and jumped into the van.

Daryl hurried and jumped in the driver's side and started the engine. Abraham's truck sped off and Daryl gassed it and followed behind.

"Holy shit!" Paul crowed, slapping his hands on the dash, "We did it! Look at all the stuff! Let's go home!"

Daryl laughed loudly and smacked the steering wheel. "Best fucking haul ever! Damn right!"

Paul hit Daryl on the arm and huffed out a breath. "Can't wait until everyone sees what we got!" He smiled at Daryl in satisfaction and Daryl's breath caught. The way that Paul's face lit up when he smiles was…distracting.

Jesus…another two days in the car with Paul.

* * *

The trip back didn't take as long and by the time the group arrived it was close to dinner. Once the vehicles entered the gate, several members of the community came out to greet them, Rick among them. He looked concerned when he walked up.

"Daryl? What happened, why are you back so soon?" Rick asked, frowning at them.

Daryl jumped out of the van and smiled at Rick. "Man…we hit the jackpot. The Walmart was there and barely touched."

Rick's face broke into a smile. "Are you serious?"

Abraham had climbed out of the truck and proudly saluted. "Absolutely, Sir! We have procured a number of much needed items for this here compound." And with a flourish he walked to the back of his truck and opened it. Several ooohhhhss and ahhhhhsss filled the area as people gaped at all of the supplies.

Michonne and Carol had come outside also and peered into Abraham's truck. "Oh my goodness," Carol said, "we'll have to start inventorying all of this." She glanced at the van Daryl was driving. "Anything in there?"

Daryl nodded, "Of course, girl. We put our foot all up in that Walmart! We have to go again. It's still full up."

Daryl turned towards the van, only to see that Paul had already opened the double doors, and had stepped back, letting the excited residents see its contents. Michonne gaped at the stack of toothpaste that was gathered in a corner and grinned happily. Rick rubbed her back affectionately and then gripped Daryl's shoulder.

"This is great, Daryl!" And he then pointed towards Paul, who was leaning against the passenger door of the van. "And you convinced me that you would find it! We need to go again soon. Gas up and head out again."

"I aim to please," Paul said happily, his eyes full of mirth. "I owe you guys for a truck full of stuff. So I've delivered." He gave a small bow and Rick chuckled. Daryl gave a snort and Paul turned towards him. "Am I forgiven now?"

Daryl gave a one armed sort of shrug, disconcerted by the intense look that Paul was giving him. "Whatever. We're good."

Daryl had to turn away from the delighted look that crossed Paul's face in the next instant. He should have picked up some sunglasses for the bastard, so that Daryl didn't have to look at his eyes anymore. And he needed to put that mask back on so that the smile wouldn't blind him either. He promised himself on the next run he would find sunglasses.

Daryl nodded and stepped back from the van and yawned. He was tired and hungry and really wanted to take a shower. He was staying with Rick still, so after exchanging a few words with residents, he headed towards the house. Once there, he grabbed a bit to eat, showered and stepped out onto the porch to take a quick smoke. He took a puff and then noticed something leaning against the porch steps. He learned closer and then gasped.

It was two packs of arrows. The ones from Walmart that got left behind.

Upon closer inspection, the magnificent crossbow that he'd had to leave behind was also there, hidden by the bushes. Daryl tugged it from its hiding place and stared at it.

Paul.

Paul had somehow knew about the crossbow and went back for it. And then _surprised_ him with it. Why? He had plenty of time to mention it on the ride home. They had actually talked a lot on the way home, since both of them were still pumped about the excellent haul. They had talked music, which they surprisingly had common interest in. But Paul never said a word about the bow. Why wouldn't he have mentioned that he had found it and put it in the van?

Daryl frowned, not understanding what had happened. He wanted to be excited about the crossbow, but he felt confused instead. Leave it to Paul to take a good thing and turn it into some shit. Daryl grabbed the boxes of arrows and marched down the street towards Aaron's house. Paul had been staying with the couple whenever he was in Alexandria. Daryl rapped on the door and waited impatiently for someone to answer. Finally, the door opened and it was Paul.

"Daryl! Miss me already?" Paul said smoothly as he leaned in the doorjamb.

Daryl shoved the arrows at him. "What's this, man? Why'd you do this?"

Paul glanced at the boxes and then up at the hunter's angry face. "Why'd I pick up the arrows and crossbow you left behind? I figured you wanted them. I ran past them, saw them and picked them up. Is that a problem?"

Daryl suddenly felt stupid for standing there being mad about the arrows, but decided to press on. "You could've knocked on the door."

"You said you were in the shower, so I didn't want to disturb you. And I honestly forgot to mention it. We talked about so many other things." Paul said, his eyes twinkling with amusement and innocence, making Daryl feel like an asshole.

"Oh," Daryl murmured, feeling even more like an asshole than ever, "sorry…I…well…thanks." He stood awkwardly and pulled the arrows back from him. "Wasn't expecting that."

"I can see that," Paul said graciously, "that bow is a beauty. Have you used one before?"

Daryl shook his hair out of his face and glared at Paul until the other man frowned slightly, "Ummmm…I take it I should know something here."

Before Daryl could give a terse response to Paul's ignorance of his prowess with a crossbow, the door was pulled open wider and Aaron's face appeared in the doorway.

"Daryl!" He said with a genuine smile, "Come in…have dinner with us! We are having a celebratory dinner for the great run you all did." He pulled the door open wide and beckoned him. "The more the merrier!"

"Uhh…no thanks. I just came by to…"

"Come on! We haven't seen you in forever! And Eric's made way too much. Just have a plate and then you can go if you want," Aaron insisted, still beaming at him.

Daryl really wanted to say no, but Aaron looked really hopeful that he would accept the invitation. And something did smell delicious and Daryl found his stomach growling. The little snack he'd grabbed at Rick's had done nothing.

"Yeah, okay," Daryl mumbled as he stepped into the foyer and placing the arrows down on the floor by the door. Aaron glanced at them and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Arrows? Did you find a new bow?"

Daryl rolled his shoulders and said, "Yeah I did. Thought I had left it behind." He glanced at Paul. "He grabbed it for me."

Aaron looked at Paul and then back at Daryl. "Well, that's even more of a reason to celebrate." He gave Paul another quick look and then headed back towards the kitchen.

"Dinner in ten minutes!"

* * *

"So yeah, Daryl is the consummate hunter with his bow and arrow," Aaron was explaining to Paul, as they sat around the dinner table, now covered with empty plates and bowls.

"Well, I'm glad that I was able to help continue that tradition for you," Paul said as he drank from a bottle of water. "Hope to see you use it."

Daryl grunted and fiddled with his fork. The dinner had been very good and the conversation had been pleasant and fun. Of course, he'd spent time with Aaron and Eric before, they were good people, but he'd never been this casual with Paul in the room. Most of his interaction with Paul had been on a few runs.

"Oh, I'm gonna use it. And if I ever find that fucker who stole it..."

"Amen to that," Eric said as he stood up to begin clearing the plates. "I'll get dessert."

Aaron stood to help and Daryl couldn't help but glance at Paul across the table. The other man looked relaxed and content, slowly drinking his water. Daryl wondered what it would be like to always stay so relaxed all the time, nothing seemed to bother him. He realizes that he knows very little about him, including how he escaped from the side of the road.

"What'd you do before?" Daryl piped up, "before this all went to shit?"

Paul looked pleased by the question and he said, "I was an instructor."

Daryl snorted. "A teacher? Kindergarten or something?"

Paul threw his head back and laughed. "No, FBI. I trained cadets in hand to hand combat."

Now it was Daryl's turn to laugh. "No shit! Well, that explains a lot. Like how the fuck you got out of those ropes."

Paul nodded and then said quietly, "Someone robbed our house when I was a kid. Tied me up with ropes. My mother got killed. I blamed myself because I couldn't get out the ropes. I might've been able to save her, if I had gotten out."

"You were a kid. Wasn't your fault."

"I know, but some days it's hard to believe that. But anyway, after that I wanted to learn how to defend myself and escape. Did the military, FBI, now I escape dead people." He looked up at Daryl. "What about you?"

"Fixed stuff, mostly. Mechanic down in Georgia. Odd jobs whenever my brother was around. My ma died when I was kid too. Fire in my house."

"Your brother? Wasn't he with you? I thought I heard someone mention him."

Daryl's face closed down and Paul immediately looked contrite. "Oh…I'm sorry. I-"

Daryl waved a dismissive hand. "Merle died last year, before we got here to Alexandria. He was stupid, running around with that psycho governor asshole. Got himself bit. Lost Andrea too. That's when we met Michonne." Daryl fingered his glass. Merle had tried to kill her…and Glenn. That was all messed up."

Paul's eyes were growing wider and wider and for once Daryl wanted to laugh at the expression on his face. "Oh…we got some stories all right. From Georgia to here…lot of bad stuff. Lot of bad people."

"But there's good people too. Like I said before, you're a good group. Family. That's good. This place will grow."

"Hope so," Daryl murmured.

"And here's dessert!" Eric called out as he and Aaron returned from the kitchen, carrying a sweet smelling pie and some clean plates. Both Daryl and Paul sat up eagerly, the depressing conversation forgotten. Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl couldn't help but once again notice how bright and clear Paul's eyes were, how they were a blue-green color, like the color of Caribbean water that he'd seen picture of once before.

Daryl's attention is snapped back to the activities in front of him by Paul's indignant cry of

"You had an apple pie and didn't tell me?"

Aaron raised his hands in innocence. "Eric did this. You know I can't cook for nothing."

Daryl laughed, "Neither can I. I lived on cereal, pop tarts and spam." He eyed the pie appreciatively and Paul leaned forward to smell it.

"I had to learn how to cook, or I'd have starved to death. After my mom died, my dad was pretty useless. His new wife was worse in the kitchen then he was. So I was the chef at home. Until I committed the mortal sin of bringing Tommy McIaron home for dinner in the 10th grade."

Both Aaron and Eric laughed at that, but Daryl's eyes widened. _The hell_?

"Wait, you're like…like…them?" Daryl asked hesitantly, struggling to not completely offend Aaron and Eric. He had no problem with them. They had been really nice to him since he'd been there. They were the reason he even had a motorcycle. And Tara and Denise. He thought they were a great couple.

But Paul?

Paul turned to look at Daryl with a surprised look, but Eric was frowning. "What do you mean by that, Daryl?" Eric asked, his voice tight and slightly menacing. "You have a problem with us?"

"No! No…look…I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't know that Paul was…was gay."

Eric didn't look convinced, but Aaron wrapped his arms around his partner and said, "You know Daryl doesn't have a problem with this, Eric. I think he was just caught off guard. No harm, right? Let's just get this pie cut!"

He went about slicing up the pie and Daryl sat there in his seat, angry at himself for offending his hosts. He really didn't care about them being gay. But for some reason, it _did_ bother him that Paul was. But why did that matter? The other man hadn't done anything but be annoying, an escape artist and have stupid eyes. Who cared who he was with? He frowned to himself, doubly angry now that irritation was now clouding his emotions. He looked up to find Paul watching him intently.

"Hey, didn't mean nothing," Daryl said gruffly, "Ain't my business."

Paul nodded and then grinned like a kid when Aaron placed a slice of pie in front of him. "Yessss! This looks so good. You know…I've been dying to make a pasta dish that everyone used to love. But no one can find any marinara sauce." He shook his head. "I mean come on, the world is ending and everyone ran out and bought marinara sauce? Priorities!"

Daryl snorted at Paul's lamenting of missing marinara sauce. Paul was an okay guy. Kind of funny, at times. And he was secretly impressed with his skilled combat training. Daryl knew that Paul was a good fighter, but had no idea that he was _that_ good. Daryl watched him under cover of his long bangs as Paul bit into the pie and moaned, closing those distracting eyes. Daryl immediately diverted his attention to his own pie and began to eat it. He found himself moaning too and Paul glanced at him and smirked.

Daryl devoured three pieces of the pie, burped loudly and pushed his plate away.

"Anytime you have pie or anything sweet, I'm here," Daryl said, "that was kick ass, Eric." Eric beamed and Paul gave him a mock salute.

"I'm outta here though. Tired. Pretty sure we're going back to Walmart in a day or two. Thanks for dinner and everything."

Daryl stood to leave and Aaron stood also, but unseen to Daryl, Eric grabbed Aaron's arm and shook his head. Paul was getting up as well and Aaron raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend. Eric mouthed, _let's see what happens_.

Aaron stared the retreating backs of his guests and blinked.

Daryl grabbed up his box of arrows and turned slightly when he heard Paul's footsteps behind him.

"Glad you stayed," Paul said quietly, "and I wasn't offended by how you reacted about me. Guess it never came up."

Daryl grunted in acknowledgment and shrugged. "Like I said, ain't my business."

Paul nodded and Daryl opened the door, but then he paused, "you ain't so bad, man. We're squared about the truck." He then disappeared out into the night.

Paul smirked and closed the door, his mind processing the evening's events. He turned to see Aaron watching him intently.

"Great dinner tonight," Paul said with a smile. "Compliments to the chef and hosts."

"Be careful, Paul", Aaron warned, "We all like bad boys-"

Paul laughed and raised his hands in innocence. "Seriously? He's a Georgia good ole boy. Guys like that beat us to a pulp just for fun."

"Daryl's not like that," Aaron said tersely, "he's got his issues, but he's not like that."

"So the warning for my virtue or his?" Paul said, amusement coloring his tone.

"Honestly, I don't know yet."

Paul gaped at him. "Where's all this coming from? One night of dinner and you think that I'm out to get him? This may be the end of the world, but I'm not that crazy."

Aaron laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "No, I don't think that. But Eric sees romance everywhere. He's going to be sooo disappointed." Aaron walked back to the kitchen, leaving Paul alone in the foyer.

The man sighed. Maybe he was crazy.

Because he definitely wanted to see what could come of something with their resident bad boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Short chapter but it will pick up soon. Hope you enjoy.**

"Son of a bitch!"

Paul twisted around from stabbing yet another walker, only to see Daryl going down in a heap in front of the Walmart. More walkers were present when they pulled up this time, making getting in much more difficult. Several in the community had wanted to come on this run, excited about the prospect of seeing and shopping in a Walmart. Rick had only allowed one more car to join the team, bringing Glenn and Heath. The more supplies the better.

"Daryl!" Paul shouted, probably not the wisest thing to do in this mob of walkers, but he needed to try and distract them. From beneath the small pile, Paul could see Daryl fighting. He ran over, shoving walkers out of the way, stabbing and slashing.

"Get off of me!" Daryl bellowed and Paul re-doubled his efforts to fight the crowd. He saw a heave of motion and two walkers rolled away, their heads rolling in opposite directions of their bodies. Daryl's face came into view as the hunter kicked bodies away from him. Paul reached down to pull him up and Daryl spit out blood, his face covered in gore, his clothes a mess.

"You all right?" Paul asked, his voice anxious. "You bit?" He stepped closer to the other man, reaching out to see if Daryl had been bitten. He was so covered in blood and guts it was hard to tell if any of the blood was his. His hand skimmed his shoulder and Daryl flinched.

"Fuck these dead mutha fuckers!" Daryl spit out more gore and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. "I'm fine!" He looked down at his clothes in disgust, his sleeves torn and his vest hanging in tatters. "Dead assholes!" He launched a hard kick at the nearest dead body and Paul snorted when Daryl's foot got stuck in the decaying flesh. The hunter glared at him and Paul backed up with his hands raised. No point in pissing the man off any further.

The group headed back into the store, stepping over the previously fallen corpses.

"We gotta hit the stockroom, could be a lot more back there," Daryl said and the others nodded. "But let's clean as much of this as we can." The groups paired off and Paul followed behind Daryl, who cast a quick glance behind him, but didn't say anything. Paul counted that as a win.

They ended up near the food side of the store this time and they both pulled carts. The smell of rotting food was almost overwhelming, but neither of them paid any attention to the rotting vegetables and fruits or molded bread, almost black with fungus. Paul turned down the next aisle that had dry goods and immediately began throwing them in his cart. Daryl went down the next aisle and Paul heard cans hitting the cart.

Daryl.

Paul hadn't been able to stop thinking about the guy. Daryl had intrigued him ever since he threw a can of soda at him on the side of the road. The gesture was double-edged. Petty in that he shook it up first, but thoughtful enough that he gave him something to drink. Paul had admired it, even though it was at his expense and Daryl had mistrusted him for weeks after that. It wasn't until Paul had come to stay in Alexandria on a more permanent basis that Daryl started treating him like a live person, instead of one of those walkers he liked to kill.

Daryl was a mystery to him, but through his keen observation skills while living in Alexandria, he found out that Daryl wasn't attached to anyone romantically. Okay, so Aaron had spilled the gossip about Rick's group, but he still listened whenever conversations out in the community turned to his favorite subject of Daryl Dixon. He had been close to a girl named Beth, Maggie's sister, but she had been killed tragically. He noticed that Carol was protective of him, but their relationship seemed pretty platonic, more brother and sister than anything else. There hadn't been any talk of someone from "before", so Paul wasn't entirely sure what Daryl would want. If he even wanted a companion. And he certainly didn't know if he wanted one of the male persuasion.

But there was something deep and complicated about Daryl and Paul was interested in finding out if he could crack that shell.

His thoughts had distracted him and before he knew it, he had finished filling his two carts and he hurried to take them back to the front of the store. Heath and Glenn were loading the vehicles and Paul left his two carts with them on their insistence. He grabbed two more and headed back towards the food. Out of the corner of his eye, Paul saw a walker stumbling towards him. He sighed and went to deal with it. Once it was dead, Paul noticed he was in the baby clothes section.

Baby clothes. So he could grab some clothes for Judith or as Daryl calls her "Lil Ass Kicker". He moved towards the toddler area and grabbed several clothes from the racks and then saw more baby supplies. He headed over and grabbed baby wipes and a couple of other things that a baby might need. While rummaging on the shelves, he saw that he had moved towards the boys and men's clothes. He paused for a moment, an idea forming in his head. Should he?

Okay, he should. Paul hurried into the men's department, stopping to end two walkers stuck under a fallen shelf. He skimmed the area and found what he was looking for. He grabbed several T-shirts that looked like they would fit Daryl and tossed them into the cart. He glanced at the back of the section and began to smile. There on another rack were several vests, and Paul helped himself to several different types. He was guessing Daryl's size, but figured something would be to his satisfaction. Paul knew he was being reckless by shopping for a non-existent boyfriend, but at least he was doing it for someone who really deserved to have some new clothes.

Daryl had made three trips back to the front of the store and had helped load their van. Abraham's truck was full and the van was three quarters full and still had to start on Glenn and Heath's car. There was still plenty in the store and Daryl headed back to his food aisles. He hadn't seen Paul in at least a half hour, but he didn't have time to worry about what he was up to. He dropped down to his knees to check the lower shelves to see if there was anything worth taking.

He'd filled several carts up with canned goods and baking supplies like flour and sugar. Several bags had fallen on the floor and spilled, the landscape looking like a ski resort or a cocaine factory. Daryl sighed as he thought about that. What he wouldn't give for a nice drag of weed. He moved on to the next row and saw bottles of ketchup, barbeque sauce and other sauces. None of that was particularly essential, so Daryl passed it by, but then stopped and looked at the bottles again. He grabbed one, hesitated, put it back and then muttered. He grabbed some bottle of condiments and tossed them into the cart.

He returned to the front again and saw the rest of the group piling things in the last car.

"We done here?" Daryl asked, "Did we hit the stockroom yet?"

"Lotta walkers back there still. Got a few things, but still a lot back there." Abraham said, rubbing his ear.

"We're getting low on gas, but we have to keep coming back. No other groups so far and we've got stuff to last months. If we finish cleaning this, we might be able to last a good year with some of this." Glenn said. "And Heath went and looked over that hill, said there's more stores over there, but a bunch of walkers."

Daryl nodded. "Okay, we'll tell Rick. His call. Let's go."

The others made their way to their vehicles and Daryl noticed Paul standing by the back of the van, holding what looked like clothes.

"What you got there? Your prom dress?"

Paul's lip curled at that. "Yeah, and you're my date. Let's make out in the back seat," he said with a chuckle, only god knows he meant every word.

Daryl stared at him and Paul's eyebrows went up at the sight of a speechless Daryl.

"Shut up," Daryl finally said and cleared his throat. Not his best comeback.

Paul decided to save him and held out the clothes. "Grabbed some things for Judith. She definitely could use some new clothes. She's growing and well…there's no clothes to hand down to her."

Daryl looked at the clothes. "Yeah…good thinking. Didn't even think about that."

"Yeah, I know," Paul said quietly, "which is why I had to think for you too." He held out his other hand with more clothes in them.

"What's that?"

Paul shrugged and then nodded at Daryl's tattered shirt and vest. "That thing is finished."

Daryl glanced down at his vest and shirt. He'd been so preoccupied that he'd completely forgotten the state of his dress. But who was this asshole to pick out new clothes for him?

"I don't need that! I'll fix this!"

Paul raised an eyebrow again and Daryl growled out, "Well fine, Carol can fix it."

"Carol is not going to fix that. She'll toss it, just like she'll toss you for handing that mess to her."

"I don't need charity!" Daryl shouted and he turned and stomped to the driver's side of the van and got in. He slammed the door and started the van. Paul stood there as a puff of smoke from the swirled around him and Daryl drove off, leaving him behind.

Paul raised his eyes to the sky and laughed.

"Trouble in paradise?" Glenn asked smugly after Paul had to jump into the car with them. Daryl hadn't bothered to come back for him.

"What the hell is his problem?" Paul said with just a touch of irritation. He didn't want to come off too pissy, because he wanted Glenn to talk; maybe he'd find out more about him.

"Daryl's always like that. He's moody as hell. He's better than his brother though, thank god."

"Oh?" Paul asked innocently.

Glenn rolled his eyes in disgust and grumbled, "Merle was a racist piece of shit! The day we met Rick in Atlanta, he ended up handcuffing Merle on the roof because he was mouthing off at me and T-Dog. He was going to get us killed. We left him by accident…and he sawed off his own hand to get away. Daryl was pissed, made us go back to find him, but he'd disappeared."

"How'd you find him again?" Paul asked, truly interested. Heath looked curious too. He probably hadn't heard this story either.

"He ended up with this crazy fucking guy…The Governor," Glenn snarled and Paul and Heath exchanged a look. Glenn was usually pretty mild-mannered. "He caught Maggie and I out on a supply run. He nearly beat me to death wanting to know where we were staying. Michonne was there too, but we didn't know her then. He shot her out in the woods, trying to kill her."

"Well shit," Heath said with a grimace, "And you all still let Daryl stay in your group?"

"Daryl is family. Merle wasn't. It was that simple. Daryl was pissed at Merle, but he felt he owed it to him to stick with his blood. He left but came back without him, because he knew we would never let him in. Daryl picked us over his own big brother. A guy he looked up to. That's what Daryl is to us. Yeah, he may be an asshole sometimes but he's loyal. He's a good guy, you just have to get to know him. He doesn't let a lot of people in."

Paul let Glenn's words sink in. So Daryl's background was pretty much what Paul had expected. Racist family background, most likely homophobic as well. He'd be crazy to even want anything with this guy. But Daryl was friends with Michonne and he spent a lot of time with Aaron and Eric. So if he was like his brother, he certainly wasn't showing it now.

Paul frowned and laid his head back on the headrest. So Daryl's reaction to the clothes was probably something from his childhood then. Hadn't he said his mother died when he was a kid? That meant the dad or someone else had to raise them, which probably meant there wasn't much money. Paul's innocent gesture must've reminded Daryl of painful times as a child. He needed to let Daryl know that he wasn't mocking him, but just really was trying to be helpful.

The convoy arrived in Alexandria with a group of excited residents already waiting. Eager hands helped to unload the vehicles and as Daryl stepped from the car alone, he caught Rick looking towards him and then at the empty passenger seat. Daryl shook his head and jerked a thumb back towards the other vehicle before Rick's face could take on a look of alarm. Instead, he raised an eyebrow in question, but Daryl ignored him and snatched his backpack and crossbow from the seat.

"Something happen?" Rick inquired cautiously, noting Daryl's tense posture and narrowed eyes. Daryl was so touchy about Paul, but Rick honestly didn't understand why Daryl was still holding that long-ago grudge over the truck incident.

"No," Daryl grunted, "but it don't change that he's an asshole." He cast a glance down towards the other cars and he caught sight of Paul, who was laughing with Glenn and Maggie, while she was kissing Glenn's cheek. Of course, Paul takes that moment to look up and catch Daryl watching him, causing the hunter to curse and stalk away towards Rick's house, away from those pitying eyes.

"And what happened to your clothes? You look terrible," Rick called out after him, which only made the man turn back with a nice "Fuck you." Rick smirked.

Once inside his bedroom, Daryl angrily tossed his backpack on the bed and yanked the offending clothes off of him. The vest was literally hanging in threads and the shirt was covered in muck, blood and entrails. He'd been wearing this thing for three days…Jesus. The shirt he didn't care about, but the vest? He'd been through a lot with the vest. It was stupid to get so attached to some cloth, but he didn't need _Paul_ to go shopping for him. He'd go to see Carol, see if she could fix the vest and then he'd be fine. Paul didn't know what he was talking about. He'd go to Carol, but after a shower and some food.

Carol was looking decidedly unimpressed as Daryl held up the sorry mess of a vest.

"What am I supposed to do with that thing?" Carol asked as she eyed it with suspicion, "that's a mess."

"Come on, girl! You can't fix it?"

"With what? There's nothing left of it! Why didn't you get something new? You were at the Walmart! Paul got clothes for Judith. You should have got some for yourself."

"Didn't have time for all that," Daryl said coolly, suddenly finding it hard to look Carol in the eye, to which she frowned at him. "But for real, there's nothing you can do with it?"

"No, Daryl. I can't. Toss it and be done with it. And seriously, take some time to get some clothes on your next trip."

"Fine!" Daryl snarled, suddenly angry all over again. "You're no help." He turned to go but Carol's arm whipped out and caught his sleeve.

"Wait, Daryl. What's the matter with you? Are you really that pissed about a vest? There's something else, isn't it?"

Daryl pulled away from her, but he did it gently. He gave a half shrug and started to bite his thumbnail. "Nah, ain't nothing wrong."

Carol just looked at him and then said quietly, "Bullshit. What's wrong?"

Daryl looked at her through his fringe of hair and Carol looked right back, waiting patiently. He sighed and shrugged again saying, "So what's it mean when someone does something you didn't ask them to do, but it's like they're making fun, ya know?"

Carol frowned at him and said, "Making fun? Like how? What did they do?"

"Something dumbass! Kinda…left something for me. But I ain't ask for that! Don't need it!"

"Like a gift? Someone left you something?"

Daryl snorted rudely and hissed, "A gift? Why would someone give me a gift? Don't get no gifts."

Carol gave him a small sweet smile. "Someone thought of you to give you a gift. Maybe because you're a good guy and deserve something nice." Her smile widened. "You've got some girl here looking at you? It's about time! Who is she?"

Carol's eyes widened in surprise as an actual blush crept up Daryl's face and pinked his ears. "I 'on know. Ain't talking like that to no one." But Carol knew that Daryl was keeping something. His blush told her that _something_ was going on.

But she raised her hands in surrender and murmured, "Okay, Casanova. I won't pry, but if someone is willing to give you a gift then take it. Nothing wrong with someone doing something nice for you for once."

Daryl looked uncertain for a moment and Carol nodded encouragement. "Just take the gift! And next time, ask for some new clothes from your secret admirer."

Daryl just groaned, grabbed the vest from the table top and left. Carol watched him go, her mind working on who the mystery lady could be. There were some possible candidates of the Alexandria residents, but she supposed she couldn't leave out their own small group. Sasha or Rosita would really be the only ones, but Carol wasn't really hedging on it being one of them. So Alexandria it was. She would find out who it was and make sure that she was right for her friend.

Daryl took the scenic route around Alexandria before he returned back to Rick's. Eugene and Tara were on watch near the gate, and Daryl nodded at them. Tara gave him a big smile and Daryl couldn't help smirking back at her. He had found Tara's girlfriend Denise strange as all get out, but as long as Tara was happy, Daryl couldn't mind a bit of strangeness. He headed back around towards home, so strange to finally consider someplace "home", after all the years of traveling from place to place, but it felt good to say it.

As he neared the property, he once again noticed something sticking out of the bushes. It was a bag, and Daryl knew what it would be before he even picked the thing up. He pulled the bag free and opened it, seeing a number of vests and short and long sleeve shirts. Daryl fingered the top vest for a moment and then stood there, thinking. Maybe Carol was right and he should just accept the clothes. Carol had misunderstood the whole thing, thinking that some girl was involved. But he couldn't just tell her that Paul had picked out clothes for him. Maybe this wasn't a big deal and he needed to get over it.

But why would Paul get him clothes? Was it really a simple thing that he'd been standing there picking out baby clothes for Judith and then just thought of him too? Paul didn't know anything about his humiliation as a kid to get hand me down clothes from the local church or Merle's old stuff. The kids made fun of him at school, until he blackened the eye of the lead bully. And then blackened the eyes of all the others. Daryl's reputation certainly preceded him after that, and there were no more taunts about his wardrobe. But the psychological damage had been done and Daryl hated being regarded as a charity case.

Okay, so maybe he had overreacted about Paul's gesture. Paul didn't know shit about those dark secrets of his, so his gesture could've been very simple after all. And now he had gone and made a big deal out of it, which would probably make the other man suspicious and wonder what those secrets were. Great.

He went upstairs with the clothes and tossed them on the bed. His backpack was still lying there on the bed and Daryl looked at it for a moment.

 _Stop making things a big deal, Daryl._

He nodded, grabbed the backpack and headed back downstairs and outside. He walked the few blocks to Aaron's place and stood there, watching the door. He looked around quickly, making sure that no one was out to see him standing there gawking at the door. He unzipped his bag and hurried up the stairs and stopped at the door. Reaching inside the bag, Daryl pulled out three bottles of marinara sauce, that he had found while food shopping. He set them down beside the door and hurried away.

On his way back to Rick's, he tossed the ruined vest in the trash.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Apologies for not getting this chapter up on time. Family life got crazy. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

Daryl groaned as he heard the unmistakable sounds of someone having sex. He wasn't sure why he was awake, but the moans were low enough that those couldn't be the reason he was now cringing in his bed. Wasn't the first time he'd heard sex through the walls; both his father and Merle had no qualms about sharing their experiences with him vocally. But this was Rick and Michonne; and it wasn't something he really wanted to listen to.

It was reminding him that _he_ hadn't been having any sex. It'd been what…two, three years maybe? Couldn't even remember. There had been some skank, Wendy, before the world had went to shit. They had fucked a few times, mostly in the alley behind the bar where she worked. She was shit at blowjobs, but was sweet and surprisingly tight. Daryl hadn't thought of her since but now he began to wonder what happened to her.

Why hadn't he got with anyone? Carol had offered that long time ago, but Daryl couldn't even being to see her like that. As much as he loved Carol, it was definitely not in a sexual way. And that whole thing with Beth. She was just a kid, but she was cute. Sweet. Maggie would've killed him though…and Herschel? Daryl gave a small snort at that thought. Herschel would've skinned him alive.

But since then, nothing. There were some okay looking women here in the community. He'd even noticed a couple of them giving him an inviting eye. That one chick had nice green eyes. Melanie? Monica?

Green eyes.

Daryl's eyes popped open in alarm. Fucking hell. He'd left marinara sauce on the front steps of Aaron's house like some kind of psycho stalker. For that equally psychotic stalker Paul. What the hell? What could possibly have possessed him to do something so stupid? Why didn't he just give it the kitchen pantry people? Or better yet, just left it with the other stuff for them to collect?

Daryl sat up and tossed the covers off. The sun was just coming up, so maybe there'd be enough time for him to get back over there and get the sauce before Paul or anyone saw it. He quickly threw on some clothes, growling softly to himself at the harsh reminder that Paul had picked out these very clothes. After he left his room, he heard the rapid thumping of the headboard against the wall and Daryl frowned at the slight tingle he felt in his groin. If he were being honest with himself, he hadn't really felt much sexual arousal in a long time. Sure, he jacked himself if the need really hit him, but that was about it.

Daryl shook it off and left the house, heading straight towards Aaron's. It was early still and most homes were quiet with their lights out. This should be fairly easy. Grab the stuff, toss it and move on from this ridiculous moment of insanity.

Daryl came out on Aaron's street and headed towards the house, still dark from what Daryl could tell. He cut across the lawn, moved towards the steps and took the first one before he looked up-

And walked straight into Paul, who had been squatting down on the porch while looking closely at the sauce jars.

He stood up and a smile that rivaled the sun spread across his face. Paul was shirtless, revealing a much chiseled set of abs and arms. His sweatpants had pulled low and also revealed a light trail of hair that disappeared into his pants. His hair was loose and tousled, not hidden under the wool cap he always seemed to favor. It looked soft and clean, so different from his own dark greasy mass of string on his head. Daryl thoughts froze in his head and he reeled in shock. He'd seen plenty of shirtless men, so he was not understanding why seeing _this_ shirtless man with nice hair had caused him to _think_ about his hair. _His hair_. _Jesus._

"Daryl! You found some! Holy shit! Thank you!" Paul said, enthusiastically, as he waved a jar at him. "Now I can make my dish. And you'll be the guest of honor."

Daryl ducked his head and backpedaled. "What? I didn't do nothing." He sounded like an idiot and he knew it. How was he going to explain why he was there this time of morning then? Paul just blinked at him and cocked his head.

"You had nothing to do with this? Someone else who just happened to know that I was looking for this left this for me to find?" Paul's voice was dripping with sarcasm and Daryl bristled.

"I don't know what you're talking about, man. Outta here." Daryl turned to flee, but the fucking ninja leapt off the porch and landed just behind him and managed to grab his arm. Daryl tried to jerk his arm away and Paul let go of it quickly, holding up his hands.

"Sorry, man. Didn't mean to grab you. I just want to say thank you. And to please come to dinner. I won't say another word about it, all right? We're even." Daryl saw the way that Paul was sizing him up, no doubt noticing his shirt that _he_ picked out. He started to puff up in even more annoyance, but Paul said quietly, "I promise. I won't tell Aaron where it came from…I'll tell him I found it."

Paul looked so sincere and hopeful that Daryl hesitated. What did this guy want from him?

"You'd better not tell anyone!" Daryl said as menacingly as he could and Paul gave him a swift nod. "It don't mean nothing! Just some fancy fucking ketchup!"

Paul's green eyes held mirth as he nodded again to Daryl. "I never thought that it did. But you'll come to dinner, right? Tomorrow night?" Again, the bright eyes that Daryl couldn't seem to look away from.

Daryl gave a half-hearted shrug and backed away some more, eager to end this whole conversation. This wasn't supposed to have happened. He was to dump the shit and no one would be the wiser. Instead, he was now being invited to dinner again and he was accepting.

"Good, see you tomorrow then." Paul smiled at him, winked and jogged back up the steps, leaving Daryl to gape in his wake.

 _What just happened?_

* * *

Carol looked up from the pantry to see Paul entering the space with a goofy looking grin on his face. It was hard not to smile back at the man, seeing how affable he was. And good looking. He had such expressive eyes.

"Paul? Coming to inventory for Hilltop? We've barely got enough room for all of this stuff you guys brought back! We'll be logging stuff for days."

"And we're not finished yet. We're going to do another one in a couple of days. There was a whole stockroom we haven't even touched. A warehouse full almost."

Carol's eyes lit up at that news. "Finally some good news with this find. Thanks, Paul," she said sincerely. "You're gonna take this to Hilltop?"

"Yeah…after this last run. A truck of supplies."

"Make sure you bring back some fresh milk, okay?"

Paul nodded at her absently as he eyed the items on the shelves and Carol cocked her head at him. "You wanted something else?"

He turned back to her and grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, I kinda do. I'm making some dinner, but I want to add something else to it. Something special. Can I take a look and see what you have?"

"Yeah, sure. You're the ones who brought a lot of it back. I think you deserve to have some of the spoils." She pointed towards the shelves. "You got a date?"

"No! No date. Nothing like that." Paul said calmly as he bent down to poke around the shelves. "Just want to have a celebratory dinner. Finally got an ingredient I was looking for."

"I see," Carol said just as calmly, but she was a bit quicker than Paul and saw the faint blush and the way he diverted his eyes from her. "Well have at it. Hope you find something good." She turned away from him and continued taking the inventory on the newly arrived goods. From her spot at the counter, she covertly watched the man rummage through the shelves and wondered.

She'd overheard chatter from Aaron that this newcomer from Hilltop was gay. Carol had been surprised, because Paul hadn't seemed gay to her. But then again, her only real frame of reference for gay men had been her own cousin, but he dressed up in women's clothes and had more tits than she did. Her family had more or less disowned him, and Carol was ashamed to say that she hadn't pressed the issue one way or another.

Now she'd met Aaron and Eric, who were perfectly normal in her opinion, so the question became, why were so many people against gay ones. She supposed it was a moot point now. The world had ended, so most people were lucky to even find another person to be with. So maybe Paul was one of the lucky ones and found someone here in Alexandria. Or someone back in Hilltop.

Her thoughts of Paul's potential love interest got her to thinking about Daryl's. Maybe love was in the air, since apparently he had a secret admirer who gave him gifts. She still hadn't made any real headway on figuring out who it was, but maybe Paul knew. He'd spent a lot of time with Daryl lately. She knew better than to come right out and ask, but she'd definitely keep her eyes and ears open and find out the answers to both questions. Who were the mystery man and woman that were suddenly making moves on these men?

* * *

Daryl stepped out of the shower, wrapping his soft new towel around his waist as he went. He stepped in front of bathroom mirror and rubbed the condensation clear of it. The face that stared back at him looked old and tired…withered. Decayed. Hell…almost as bad as some of the fucking walkers. This world, this life….where the dead got up and tried to eat you, tried to make you into one of them; where other human beings stole your things, your safety, your life…all for a scrap of food. Or just because.

He opened the cabinet and pulled out a pair of scissors, shaving cream and a razor. He hadn't cut his hair or done any type of grooming in what seemed forever, but since finding the Walmart, he had grabbed some of the stuff for himself. At the very least he could trim his hair some. As he went to work, he fervently told himself he wasn't doing this for some kind of date. Nope.

He looked over his pile of clothes, trying hard not to look at the new digs that Paul had picked out. But he finally decided he was being stupid again and put on a new shirt, vest and some jeans. After a final tug of the vest, which fit perfectly, Daryl went downstairs and was immediately stopped by Michonne, who was carrying Judith into the kitchen.

"Daryl? Look at you! Where are you going?" She asked in surprise, but her eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Shut up," Daryl said, unable to hide the blush he knew was forming all over his face. "Ain't doing nothing."

Michonne gave him a knowing look and the hunter turned away, embarrassed beyond belief.

"I just cut my hair, okay? No big deal."

"You did more than that, my friend," she said happily, but decided to leave him alone, lest he stomp back upstairs and hide. "You look good."

"Yeah, well…whatever," Daryl said, ungraciously, hating every second of this conversation. He shoved his hands under his armpits and glared at her. Michonne laughed and Judith looked up and tried to reach for him. He made a silly face at her and she laughed too. It looked like she was wearing some sort of two piece pant set with pink flowers and balloons. Looked new.

"Paul got her these. So cute. He must know something about babies. Most men don't have a clue about what to get a baby."

At the mention of Paul, the other man tensed up and Michonne raised an eyebrow. "Are you still mad at him? Get over it, Dixon! Sheesh…and you say women hold grudges." She started towards the kitchen, leaving Daryl to splutter behind her.

"I ain't holding no grudge! I'm over it!"

Michonne called out without turning around in a perfect imitation of him, "Yeah, well, whatever."

Daryl grunted as Michonne waved and disappeared into the kitchen. He shook his head in amusement and left, heading towards Aaron's.

* * *

Aaron watched in concern as Paul banged around the kitchen, yanking open cabinets and swearing.

"It's fine, Paul," Aaron said, trying hard not to laugh as Paul stared in dismay at the way too crisp ravioli, that actually had burnt edges. "It still looks good."

"No it doesn't! It looks like burnt shit! I've never burned this dish a day in my life!"

"Well, you did say your meat was different, sooo…guess that caused some changes," Aaron supplied unhelpfully and Paul glared at him. "Besides, who cares? It's food…and it smells delicious! What time is Daryl coming?"

"Now. How's Eric by the way?" He grabbed a set of plates and headed towards the table to set them up.

"Still has fever and sore throat. Irritable. He's pissed he's going to miss a meal."

"They'll be some left over, I'm sure…I know Daryl's not going to eat it."

Aaron gave a small chuckle. "Daryl not eat? Like that's ever going to happen."

Paul didn't look convinced and Aaron shrugged. "More for me then,"

A loud knocking heralded Daryl's arrival and Aaron went to get the door, while Paul finished setting up the table and getting the food out. Paul felt a bit nervous tonight, wondering if this was finally going to be the turning point in getting Daryl to finally trust him and stop treating him like the enemy. Daryl had actually took the time to find the sauce he'd been lamenting about. Paul felt that had to count for something, even if the stubborn man refused to acknowledge his good deed.

Paul looked up to see Aaron enter the dining area with such a look of incredulous wonder on his face, that Paul became alarmed.

"What-" But he didn't get to finish his sentence as Daryl appeared behind him and Paul was forced to let his mouth gape open in astonishment.

Daryl had trimmed his hair enough that his eyes were no longer covered by scraggly hair. His normally ragged facial hair had been shaved and trimmed into a nicely shaped goatee. The difference was striking and Paul felt his mouth dry out with a want he hadn't felt in a very long time. Daryl's eyes were a bright blue and Paul honestly couldn't say he'd ever actually seen the man's eyes this well…so covered with hair, sweat and squinting he was used to seeing on him.

He suddenly realized he was staring and knew that Daryl would not appreciate that at all, so Paul quickly cleared his throat and nodded at him.

"Daryl…right on time! Hope you're hungry!" He exclaimed and pointed at an empty seat. "I'll get the rest." He headed back to the kitchen to get the rest of the food and took a moment to carefully rearrange himself. He was half hard and that wouldn't look good to come back to the table tenting his pants. No doubt that would send the man running for the hills. He could admit that he was very attracted to Daryl, at least physically, but there was no hint of whether Daryl would be okay with a little fuck buddy action. He had to take this slow.

It was over a dinner of burnt chicken ravioli, some tasty homemade bread with tomatoes on top of it and a bottle of cheap Walmart wine that Daryl realized he was in trouble.

He had fucking stared at the guy throughout the dinner and it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, his eyes kept drifting back to Paul's face, the latter who seemed oblivious to Daryl's new problem.

Paul had done something different with his hair because it was pulled back into a pony tail, which showed off even more of his face and eyes. He'd trimmed his facial hair as well, so he looked even younger and less like a fake Jesus. With his hair pulled back like that, Daryl could practically see himself reflected in those eyes, they were so bright and clear.

No man should be attractive to him. In no way, shape or form.

He had finally figured out why Paul made him uneasy. Or least one of the ways he did.

Daryl found Paul attractive.

The epiphany hit him like a slugger bat in the face and he actually choked on his food and he groped for some of the nasty cheap wine that only made him cough even more.

"Daryl?" Aaron asked with some concern, as he leaned towards the hunter. "You okay, there?"

Daryl struggled to take a breath and gasp out, "Yeah…m' fine. Nasty ass food went down wrong."

Aaron gave a sympathetic look at Paul, who merely grinned.

"My apologies for the nasty food. However, you've eaten three plates of it. I'll take that as a compliment. Imagine what my good food would taste like then, if I get this reaction from you on my bad food." He picked up a piece of the bread and bit into it, watching Daryl intently and completely ignoring the stunned look on Aaron's face at the blatant flirting.

Daryl's lip curled at his words, not missing the spark of challenge in the other man's eyes. Or the…something else there.

"You ain't the only one who can cook. Just because I grew up on shit don't mean I ain't learned nothing along the way. So don't get all big headed about it," Daryl sniped, but it didn't have nearly as much bite as he wanted it to.

Paul's grin grew even bigger and he said quietly, "then the next meal is on you, Daryl. I can't wait."

Daryl huffed a breath and then shrugged. "Fine, but it ain't gonna be no fancy thing like this." He jerked a nod at the table. "But it'll be decent. And not burnt." He smirked as Paul narrowed his eyes and Aaron chuckled as he stood up.

"Well, I need to go check on Eric. He caught some nasty thing. Thank God you all found some cold medicine. When is the next run to Walmart going to be?"

Daryl almost sighed out loud in relief that the subject had changed. He could easily talk about mundane stuff like runs and supply needs. But he had no desire to think about his ridiculous thoughts of _attraction._ Definitely didn't want to examine that too closely.

"We need gas. Rick's going on a fuel run, then we'll go back to Walmart," Daryl said as he stuffed another ravioli into his mouth. It _was_ really good. Since they had come to Alexandria, the food choices had been much improved. Actual home-cooked meals was something that Daryl thought would be a thing of the past. He enjoyed a good meal as much as the next person, even though he'd mostly survived on his own kills and fast food before the world went to shit. It was appealing in a way that Paul enjoyed cooking. He'd make the perfect girl.

Daryl strangled that thought viciously. _He's not a girl. Not a girl, not a girl…_

He looked up in time to see Aaron leaving the room and Paul staring at him, amusement on his face. Daryl frowned a bit as Aaron gave them a strange glance and then went on his way.

"Glad you liked it. Really glad that you found it in the first place," Paul said sincerely as he inclined his head at Daryl, "and I kept your secret as promised. And I'm serious about wanting to try some of your food."

Daryl shrugged and then played with his napkin. "Fine, whatever." He lowered his eyes, so that he wouldn't have to look at Paul again. Now that Aaron had left, he suddenly felt…uncomfortable. This was getting stupid. Time to go.

"I'm gonna get out of here. Tired. Going with Rick."

"Well there's dessert too, some more pie. Take some with you for tomorrow. And I'll give you some leftovers of ravioli, if you want."

Daryl opened his mouth to object, but then closed it as Paul got up and headed back towards the kitchen. Why not just accept some? Nothing wrong with taking a plate home, right?

"All right."

Paul turned and looked at him with an unreadable expression for just a second and then he smiled again. "Coming right up."

Paul packed up the food in two containers and put them on the counter for Daryl to take. The hunter watched him surreptitiously while he fiddled with his fork some more.

"You going back to Hilltop?" Daryl asked suddenly, surprising himself with the question. _Where had that come from?_

"After this last run. In another week probably," Paul answered as he leaned against the counter, "You want something?"

Daryl felt an odd tingle in his stomach at the question, but ignored it. "Want some fresh fruit if you have any."

Paul nodded, "I'll get something if we have it."

They lapsed into silence and Daryl realized that he hadn't moved yet. He got up from the table and went to the counter to get the food, but Paul was already handing it to him.

"Thanks for coming, man. Enjoy the pie."

"Yeah, thanks for asking." He took the containers without incident and walked towards the door, with Paul following behind him.

Daryl opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, and Paul stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the porch light.

"Good night, Daryl," Paul said softly and he lowered his eyes when Daryl turned back to look at the man.

"Later, Paul." He jogged down the front steps and then stopped, but didn't turn around. "And thanks for thinking of the clothes." He hurried away and Paul stared after him with a flutter in his heart.

* * *

Daryl was so glad to see the Walmart again, but not because of the upcoming supply raid, which he was truly enjoying.

Sitting next to Paul again, had been way too intense for him.

He'd welcomed the other man back into his ride and the guy had smiled so much that Daryl felt the need to punch him again. But he was weirdly pleased that Paul was so pleased. Which made him want to bang his head against the steering wheel.

What was happening to him?

He hadn't gone home after the dinner, but slipped out of the gate to take a walk in the nearby wooded area, where he did some of his hunting. Helped him clear his head. And boy, did it need clearing.

He didn't like guys, had never been attracted to one in his life. He wasn't no faggot. He actually winced as he thought about it. Merle would've put a bullet in him if he even thought that he liked some guy. His pops… _holy shit_. Couldn't even imagine what his pops would've done if he'd turned out to like dick. That man was as mean as a junkyard dog with a bite and fist to match.

No. This wasn't an attraction. This was just something stupid. He liked the fucker's eyes and that was it. He could admit now that Paul was a stand-up guy and was trustworthy. He'd proved himself capable of handling himself and that was all Daryl really cared about. He was thoughtful, which wasn't what he was used to coming from another man, but that didn't make him a bad guy either. Just way too girly. And pretty. And had a nice smile…

Daryl snarled as unwelcome thoughts took over again. Was he that hard up? Well, he decided that as soon as he came back from these last two runs, he was going to hook up with one of these Alexandria women-Melanie? Monica?- and prove to himself once and for all that these thoughts didn't mean anything. He had no idea what it meant anyway. So nothing to worry about.

* * *

Definitely something to worry about.

The conversation on the ride there had been fun and pleasant. Paul had been full of stories about life before everything went to shit and Daryl found himself sharing tidbits of his life as well. Something he didn't do very often. No one really liked to talk about Before. But Paul talked about it and his voice was soothing, so Daryl relaxed on the drive and listened.

He found out Paul had a sister and brother, with three nieces. So that explained why he was good with babies. He'd had his jaw broken by a group of guys who'd followed him home from a bar one night. Despite his injuries, he put three of the others in the hospital as well. Daryl found himself angry about that story, but also feeling a bit guilty. Merle had bragged to him once that he and his friends had beat up a guy they thought was gay. He'd been arrested, but the guy was too embarrassed to press charges and he'd moved away.

By the time they got to Walmart Daryl thought they'd be braiding each other's hair and playing with My Little Pony. He couldn't believe that he'd told him Merle stories and the time he got drunk and yakked on a cop's shoes and he was taken to jail. They both talked about the deaths of their mothers, which was sobering for both of them. Something they could bond over.

 _You ain't supposed to be bonding!_

The front of the Walmart and parking lot area had an overabundance of walkers this time. Something had attracted them. Daryl slowed the car and waited for Heath and Spencer, their travel companions on this run. Glenn and Abraham were tied up with other things this time, so the inexperienced crew was along. Daryl didn't feel all that great about them, but things had gone pretty smooth so far, so this probably would too.

But now the parking lot was overflowing and Daryl hesitated.

"Where'd they come from?" Paul asked as he scanned the lot. "Did we leave something on or something?"

"Nah. Maybe another group came or something. Shit!"

The walkie talkie started crackling and Paul reached for it. A moment later Spencer was on the line sounding nervous. "Are we going in? That's a lot of walkers. We can't handle that many," he said anxiously.

"Calm down, Spencer," Paul said soothingly, "we're deciding what to do." He glanced at Daryl who was chewing his lip as he watched them shamble around in circles.

"Try the warehouse up that hill. Let's see what's there."

He backed the car away slowly away from the mass of deadness and circled around to the next parking lot section that housed other stores. There were less walkers in this lot, but enough to cause problems if they weren't careful or quiet. Daryl skirted them and headed towards the back of the store. A small group of walkers meandered there and Daryl nodded in satisfaction. Both cars parked far away from them and everyone got out, weapons at the ready.

"You ready?" Daryl hissed at Heath and Spencer, who were now flanking him, as he held his crossbow out. "Can you handle this?"

Heath nodded in the affirmative, but Spencer took a few seconds before he nodded slowly. Daryl rolled his eyes and they landed on Paul, who mirrored Daryl's exasperation.

"You mess up, you die," Paul said matter-of-factly, "so, don't mess up."

That got Spencer's attention and he squared his shoulders and nodded. Paul glanced at Daryl and gave him a quick nod as well. He wasn't going to mess up either.

The group did well dispatching the walkers and they got close to one of the back doors of the large store. They were aiming for the stock rooms, knowing there would probably be a lot more items in there that could be used. But now they had to contend with the idea that another group may have been there and raided as well. So they didn't know what they were going to walk into.

Heath had a pair of bolt cutters with him and he used it to break the door handle of the locked door. The others stood ready for more walkers, but once the door opened there were no signs of any in the small hallway.

"Come on," Daryl said softly, as he led the way in the darkened area with Heath and Spencer in the middle and Paul bringing up the rear. They rounded a corner and entered what looked like an employee lounge. The lounge had been completely destroyed, with holes in the walls, water all over the floor and holes in the ceilings. There were two walkers trapped under some furniture and Heath took care of them.

There were other doors leading away from this room and the group headed towards the first one. This led to the large warehouse that had even more damage to it. It looked like a major battle of some kind had happened in there. There were only a few walkers in the immediate area, so Paul and Heath stepped forward. Daryl and Spencer moved off to investigate some of the items that had been spilled from the overturned and ruined boxes. Large holes in the ceiling had let water in and the whole floor was mildewed and dirty.

The group worked quickly to find things that would be of use and regularly killing walkers that appeared from around corners of tall, large shelves. Daryl told Heath to go pull the cars up closer to the door, so they could begin loading some of the stuff. The younger man left and Daryl moved on to another aisle, sidestepping the larger puddles of water that looked rife with bacteria and disease. He noticed that some areas of the floorboards were rotting through from all of the water damage and mold.

As he found a box that had some ammunition in it, he heard a shout from Spencer. Daryl jumped up and headed towards the noise. Spencer was cornered by four walkers and he was slashing frantically. Behind him was a forklift and he was desperately scrambling backwards into it. Daryl ran towards him, but a pair of hands reached out and snagged his shirt. He turned to deal with it, delivering the headshot quickly, and turned back towards the other man. Spencer had managed to kill two walkers, but had climbed on the forklift and was kicking at them. Before Daryl could reach him, the forklift suddenly came to life and jerked forward hard.

Spencer lost his balance and fell against some of the gears and switches. The forklift moved forward and smashed into a large shelf. The contents of the shelf began to fall and the shelf itself, already sagging, fell slowly towards another shelf, upending its contents as well. The last shelf in the row, was hit by the slow domino falling of the other two and it smashed into a side wall with a loud bang that reverberated around the store area.

Meanwhile, Spencer was still shouting as the walkers tried to chew on his legs. Daryl barely had time to register the noise of the falling shelves or Spencer's shouting, when a loud roar echoed in the space. The hole the shelves caused now let in an enormous amount of walkers.

"Fuck!" Daryl shouted, as the wave of stench and gore hit him. He had to get Spencer, who was still flailing in the seat of the forklift. Dumbass!

He ran forward and stabbed the walker closest to him. "Come on, man!" He yelled at Spencer, who finally was able to get himself together and climb off the forklift. "Kill that thing and let's go!"

Spencer complied and struggled out of the seat, as the wave of walkers reached them.

"Where's Heath and Paul?" Spencer said anxiously, his eyes practically bugging out of his head.

"I don't know!" Daryl snapped back, ready to punch the kid for his stupidity, but they had bigger problems right now. "Heath was outside. But with all that noise, who knows what's out there now."

They both ran up the aisle and away from the approaching mass of walkers.

"Go outside, find Heath. Get out of here, we'll catch up!"

Spencer didn't hesitate to sprint away and Daryl took a chance to call out for Paul.

"Paul!"

"Here! I'm stuck!" Came Paul's voice and Daryl sagged with relief. It was short-lived though, because the direction of the voice was where the shelves had crashed.

Daryl ducked back behind a shelf and raced towards Paul's voice. Paul wasn't critically hurt, but he had been pinned by some of the debris of the falling wall and shelf contents. The walkers hadn't seen him at first, because they had been aiming for Spencer the only moving target they saw when the wall fell.

Daryl quickly pushed away boxes and concrete pieces, while Paul worked to free himself. They had just finished when some walkers appeared and Daryl started slashing. Paul gingerly moved his leg and feet and decided they were okay enough to move. Nothing seemed broken, so he dispatched two more walkers. But more were starting to appear up the aisles, from both directions. A lot more. Cutting them off from the direction they had come in.

"We'll never make it out that way," Paul said, quickly assessing the situation. "We gotta go this way." He grabbed Daryl's arm and the hunter nodded and followed behind him.

"Heath and Spencer are outside. If we can get to them-"

The two ran towards the crashed wall, hoping against hope that all the walkers had left that area. Sure enough the area was empty, and there was another small hallway leading away from it. Both men vaulted over the jagged opening and ran through the room. It stank to high heaven, and everything looked rotten inside. They ignored it and dashed up the small hallway, hoping it would lead to another door to let them outside.

Sure enough they saw light up the corridor and they both hurried towards it. But before they could reach it, another small hallway led away and it was filled with walkers, who all turned and snatched at Paul and he was knocked down in the fall out. He immediately began to fight against the walkers who fell on him. Daryl wasn't able to stop in time and he ran headlong into two more walkers, one who almost bit his nose off and the two fought for their lives.

Paul kicked his way free and rolled backwards, away from the corridor that held the exit. Daryl was surrounded by three walkers and Paul grabbed at rotting feet to trip them up. Three more walkers crawled towards him and he scrambled back and his back hit a door that flew open on impact. If there was a walker in there, Paul knew he was finished. But luck held for him because nothing jumped him from behind.

"Daryl!"

Paul rolled backwards in a somersault and slashed at the walkers in front of him. Daryl saw the opening and he slashed at the two walkers still trying to chomp his face off. He dove into the room and they both slammed the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. Paul saw a coffee table and he ran over to drag it in front of the door. It looked like it was an office, but heavily damaged by water. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling and the floor was practically a swamp.

The door was held for the moment and both men took a minute to take a breath.

"You hurt?" Daryl asked after he got his voice back. "Bit?"

Paul quickly assessed himself and shook his head. "Probably sprained my ankle, but not bit. You?"

"Nah…I'm good." He looked around the room. "Spencer left us, if he could. Told him to leave."

Paul shook his head. "Would he really do that? Leave? Even if you told him?"

Daryl shrugged in irritation. "Those guys are cowards. I don't know about the other one. But they're definitely not coming in here for us, that's for sure." He knew that no one in his group would leave him behind, even if he told them to.

"How many were out there?" Paul asked, "I didn't see when the wall came down."

Daryl cocked his head towards the hallway and listened to the rising noise. "A lot of them. Don't know if we can handle that."

Paul nodded and sat down heavily on an old chair that creaked ominously. "Well, we gotta figure something out. I don't want to die here in a fake Walmart."

"So you're okay dying in the real one then?"

Paul looked up at Daryl and cracked a smile. "Well since you put it like that-"

The door gave a massive heave and almost flew open. Paul jumped to his feet and stared at it and Daryl backed up, getting into position.

"Oh hell," Paul hissed, as he backed away from the door. The door was heaving and cracks began appearing down it. He turned to look at Daryl, who was taking deep breaths in preparation for the upcoming fight.

Daryl turned to look back at him and he sighed. "Was gonna go out sometime."

"Glad it was with me."

The door heaved again and an arm surged through and wood continued to splinter. There had to be a hundred walkers out there.

Daryl hardly had any time to process the sentence before Paul was moving. But he was moving towards him and not towards the walkers. He stepped right into Daryl's space and stared at him.

"Sorry about the truck. Sorry I pissed you off about the clothes. Thanks for being my dinner date and for finding the sauce. You're gonna be mad now, but you can kick my ass in the afterlife."

Paul said that all so quickly that Daryl barely heard what he said, but he didn't need to because in the next instant, Paul was grabbing him by the sides of his head and had pressed his lips against his in a kiss. Daryl gasped in shock and Paul's tongue snuck in and swiped all around the inside of his mouth. Daryl didn't even have a chance to punch him _or_ continue the kiss before the other man pulled away and faced the onslaught.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Some action in this chapter. Hope you enjoy. Please review. Thanks for the follows and comments.**

Daryl saw the first group of walkers push through the door and immediately fall over the table blocking the door. Paul had moved forward with his knife and began to stab heads and the first three quickly succumbed. Daryl snapped out of his shock and ran forward to get in the fray. He quickly stabbed several walkers and a bottle neck formed, effectively blocking the entrance from the other walkers, who were struggling frantically to get in.

Paul fell back, panting heavily and surveyed the scene. They probably only had a few minutes before the struggling mass would break through again, so they had to do something. He turned to Daryl, who was eyeing the scene critically. The hunter glanced at him and Paul winced slightly. Daryl's face gave nothing away about what had transpired a few seconds before.

"Got anything?" Paul asked as he glanced around the closed room. Maybe more furniture at the door?

Daryl glanced up at the ceiling and noticed the large hole caused by its partial collapse. He nodded up and Paul followed his gaze.

"That may not hold," Paul said dubiously, but really what choice did they have? "But maybe long enough to get out of this space."

There was a surge of activity at the door revealing that a walker had managed to climb over the table and his fallen comrades. Daryl walked over and handled that and two more behind it before returning to stand next to Paul.

"You can stay if you want, but I'm getting out of here," Daryl said coolly, and Paul nodded, determined not to think too much about that statement. There was a small desk near the hole and both men hurried over to it and pushed/pulled it under the hole. Daryl jumped up on the table and Paul went to stab a couple more walkers that he could easily reach through the hole in the door.

The ceiling was a bit high and the plaster and material used was wet and weak. Daryl knew that it wouldn't hold his weight if he grabbed at it. This wasn't going to work.

"I'll boost you," Paul said quickly, coming to the table and hopping up on it. "We don't have much time." He bent down and locked his hands, indicating that Daryl should jump up. Daryl hesitated.

"That ain't gonna hold."

"Come on, Dixon!"

Daryl huffed, but another walker was coming through so he couldn't do anything about it. He stepped on Paul's hand, grabbed his shoulder and Paul hoisted him up into the ceiling. Daryl felt around a bit, trying to find a solid grip and managed to grab a pipe. It was wet and slimy, but Daryl clung to it. Paul pushed him hard and Daryl flew up into the space. He floundered a bit, but managed to get upright along the pipes. He peered down at Paul, who was eyeing the door and the closing horde.

"Give me your hand!" Daryl shouted, reaching down as far as he could. Paul strained up to reach it and had just managed to grab his fingers, when Daryl shouted, "look out!"

A walker had broken free and had entered the room and was reaching out for Paul's leg. Paul kicked it away, but it managed to snag his pant leg and Paul was jerked off the table and tumbled to floor, out of sight of Daryl.

"Paul!"

Daryl could only hear grunts from Paul as he fought the walker, but his attention was drawn to the door and suddenly two more walkers had managed to climb over the pile and were coming in. Daryl realized he'd have to get back down and help. He couldn't let the other man die like that. He had just started to move when Paul popped into view and killed the others. He jumped back up on the table and again reached for Daryl's hand.

But just then, the horde finally broke through the impasse and pushed into the room. Several hands reached for Paul, who was still standing on the table. Daryl grabbed his hand and pulled as hard as he could, and Paul grabbed his arm, almost wrenching it out of its socket. Daryl grunted in pain, but held on, trying to pull him up.

Then suddenly there was an even louder noise and the room shuddered. Daryl almost lost his grip on Paul, who started sliding back down into the fray. Then music to their ears sounded in the room. A car horn, loud and blaring.

"Hey! Hey! Over here!" A voice shouted and Daryl almost fainted in relief to hear Heath's voice shouting over the din.

The car horn continued to blare and several walkers turned, distracted by this new temptation. Many of them pulled away from the door and shambled away, and Paul landed back on the table. There were still walkers in the room, quite a few in fact, but he started killing them quickly. Daryl leapt back down and finished the stragglers and they cautiously climbed the pile to peak outside into the hallway.

The walkers were pouring out of the building through a newly created hole that Heath and Spencer had done by driving through. Daryl and Paul followed a prudent distance behind, listening as the car horn kept blowing, drawing them away from the building.

Sure enough, once they reached the hole, the walker group were following the car and had more or less abandoned the building. Their car had been pulled up closer and it was a short run. Daryl prayed they had left the keys in it. On an unspoken count, the duo dashed for the car, knowing that some walkers had spotted them and had turned towards them again, but they didn't care. They jumped into the car and Daryl gunned it, in reverse, to get the hell out of there. He ran over some walkers in the process, and it felt satisfying.

They got back to the main road and saw the other car waiting. Daryl pulled up behind them and climbed out, making sure to mark that the horde was far enough away. Spencer and Heath hurried up to them, their faces pale and wide-eyed.

"We thought you guys were goners!" Spencer said, vibrating with energy. "I almost left. Thank god Heath thought to ram the car into the building! Shit!"

Paul narrowed his eyes at that and Daryl snorted. "Takes a bit more than a few walkers to bring me down." Daryl said snidely and he nodded towards the cars. "We get anything?"

"Couple of things, not much though." Heath said. "Trip's kind of a bust."

"Yeah, let's get out of here." Spencer said looking around nervously.

Daryl nodded and watched the two men walk back to their car and get in. Daryl turned to Paul who was looking towards the building, keeping an eye out on the walkers.

"Yeah, let's get out of-"

Daryl's fist flew out and slammed against Paul's cheek so hard that the other flew off his feet and landed in the ditch a few feet away. He advanced on the other man as Paul rolled over and jumped to his feet, spitting out blood.

"The fuck was that, back there, huh?" Daryl snarled, readying for another punch, "you think I'm like you? That I'm some fucking fag?!"

Paul wiped his mouth, flinging blood to the ground. He looked at Daryl and gave a short, bitter laugh. "I thought I was gonna die back there, okay? Just wanted one last kiss with somebody. It was my bad luck it was you." He then glared at Daryl. "So much for you not being a homophobic prick, ya dick!"

"Fuck off, Rovia! Keep your goddamn lips to yourself, you asshole! Next time I'll let you die." Daryl stomped to the car, ignoring the hurt look that crossed Paul's face at those words. Daryl got in the car, ready to leave his ass there in the dirt again, knowing he'd be in the right. Paul deserved to get left behind. Daryl started the car and glared through the windshield at the other man, who was just standing there like an idiot. Finally, he walked over to the car and got in, closing the door quietly.

Daryl pulled off and cranked the radio up as loud as it would go. Paul sat silently and stared out the window, not bothering to notice the loud music. They rode like that the entire way, Paul silent and the music blasting. Daryl glanced over at him a few times, but Paul never looked back at him. Daryl started to get irritated with the silent treatment. Wasn't he the one who was wronged? Paul had violated _him_ , not the other way around. If anyone had the right to be sullen and silent, it was him, not Paul.

By the time they got back to Alexandria, Daryl was a simmering pot of rage. Paul had ignored him the entire trip, not uttering a word. This asshole! Daryl wanted to re-arrange Paul's face with his pack of arrows. Let's see how pretty he looked then.

Daryl pulled in through the gate behind the other car. Other residents were already heading towards for the usual inspection of their goods. Too bad they were going to be disappointed this round. As Daryl shut the car off, Paul suddenly came to life and turned towards, startling him.

"I'm sorry, Daryl. I never would've done something that like without your permission. I really did think I was going to die and I just wanted a little human contact before that happened. You never have to worry about me anymore, okay?" And with that little speech, Paul jumped out of the car, spoke to a few of the residents and disappeared. He was gone by the time Daryl got out of his seat.

Daryl did his greetings, but then he too left the group to head to his room. He was tired and filthy, but not really hungry. His nerves were shot and he just wanted to shower and go to bed. Put this whole trip behind him.

Once he got in bed, sleep didn't come right away. He lay there, his mind in turmoil and uneasy. Paul had kissed him against his will and he'd settled that score. So why was he not feeling settled about it? Why did he feel like a dick? The hurt look on Paul's face made him feel guilty and his walking away from him felt permanent. He hadn't liked the silence in the car and even though he was mad, he'd rather the other man have talked to him.

Daryl finally fell asleep with the thought of soft lips on his.

* * *

It took Daryl three days to realize he hadn't seen Paul at all. It took him a week to realize that it bothered him.

After the first day back and he had rested and calmed down, he took a moment to process the events that had taken place. He could've died. Paul certainly would have, if Heath and Spencer hadn't showed up when they had. He realized he hadn't even thanked them properly for saving his ass. And in his musings, he also realized that Paul had more or less sacrificed himself to let him get to safety first.

And his response? He'd punched the guy and called him a faggot. _Fuck._

He'd probably told Aaron what he said and wouldn't that just be peachy? Aaron and Eric were good people; they didn't deserve to be called that. Hell, Paul didn't either.

Did he really just kiss him because he was the only person standing there and thought that was the end? If it had been Maggie or Michonne or Carol, would Paul have kissed them? He hadn't been thinking about anything like that, but he could admit that he thought he was going to die. His only thought had been to go down fighting, not worrying about kissing another human being. But maybe that was the difference between him and Paul. Or anyone else for that matter. Hadn't he decided that he needed to establish some sort of connection with someone, so he could feel something? Or to be honest, so he would stop thinking about the wrong person's eyes.

Either way, he shouldn't have said what he did. He may have been justified in being upset about being kissed like that, but it wasn't that big of a deal. It was just a kiss; something that he hadn't had in ages. And Paul had saved his life. And he repaid him by having a temper tantrum.

He felt that he had to make it right. Now if only he could find the guy.

* * *

He found out from Rick that Paul had left for Hilltop the day after they returned from their disastrous run. Daryl subtly asked when he was to return, but Rick didn't know for sure, so Daryl was left to wait it out. In the meantime, he probably should at least make an attempt to get to know some other people in Alexandria. Specifically, someone with some tits.

There had been a couple of women who had given him the eye over the last several months so it made sense to at least see what could happen. That was normal. The right thing to do. So let's do it.

He didn't want to do it.

But of course, as soon as he talked himself out of it, he found himself face to face with the woman, courtesy of Maggie. He had just returned from doing a bit of hunting and was holding two squirrels and he didn't look particularly clean when Maggie accosted him on the sidewalk.

"Daryl, we're going to have a community meeting soon and we'll need you to report out on the runs, okay?" Maggie said with a smile. "Carol's group will give the inventory."

Daryl nodded and casually glanced at the short blond haired woman next to her, who proceeded to give Daryl a hesitant smile.

This seemed to give her some courage. "I've been wanting to thank you. All the stuff that you got from Walmart. Great job."

Daryl gave a shrug. "It was nothing. We needed things."

She smiled at him fully then, showing slightly crooked teeth. Daryl decided that he didn't mind that and that she was cute enough, even though her eyes were a plain green color. He told himself that he was not disappointed that her eyes weren't brighter or more appealing.

Maggie was looking from him back to the woman and she gave a smirk.

"Melissa, I didn't know you knew Daryl. He's so quiet and shy," Maggie said with barely concealed amusement. "He's extremely modest as well."

 _Melissa…that's her name._

He barely had time to glare at her for all that nonsense, when Melissa threw a complete monkey wrench in his plan of not wanting to get involved with anything and remaining alone and aloof.

"So, Daryl? I was wondering if you'd like to…well…I'd like to invite you to dinner. If you're not busy or anything."

Daryl blinked and then coughed. "Dinner? Uhhhh…you don't have to do that", he muttered. "Don't go to no trouble."

Melissa gave an even bigger smile. "No trouble, Daryl. I've been wanting to get to know you…I mean…your group better anyway." A nice blush began to color her face and Maggie bit back a snort. She glanced at Daryl, who was looking more and more like a mouse who'd just been seen by a cat.

"Daryl loves a good meal, Melissa. Even though he can't seem to stop hunting for those squirrels," she nodded at Daryl's haul. "Bring home a nice deer, next time."

"Would love to find one of those," Daryl said, glad that the topic had changed away from yet another dinner invitation. "That'll be some nice eats for a while."

"You eat deer?" Melissa said, her mouth a moue of disapproval. "Such beautiful animals, it's a shame to butcher them."

Daryl looked at her incredulously and was about to let her know where she could stick her disapproval, but Maggie gently touched his arm and smiled at her.

"Well until we can get some beef or some other type of meat, we've had to make due with what protein we can. And yes, they are beautiful creatures. But it's about survival."

"Damn right," Daryl gruffed out, annoyed that she would try to judge him on eating whatever to survive.

Melissa sensed that she had angered the hunter and she quickly recovered. "I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry. I just wish we didn't have to kill all of them." She looked at Daryl with hopeful eyes. "I really want you to come to dinner." She looked at Maggie. "You too, of course, Maggie. And Glenn."

"Thank you. Let us know and I'm sure we'll be there." Maggie said politely as she discreetly nudged Daryl. Daryl shrugged and Maggie sighed.

"Great! Next week, then. I'll give you the exact date." Melissa said enthusiastically, eyeing Daryl again. She walked away and Maggie watched her go. She then turned to say something to Daryl and was surprised to see he had already disappeared.

She sighed again. It was about time that her friend found someone so he could stop being so alone.

* * *

The following Friday, Daryl found himself sitting at a table in Melissa's house with Maggie and Glenn, dying to get out of there.

Oh, the food was decent, a canned chicken casserole that was a bit dry, but edible. There wasn't any dessert because Melissa didn't know anything about baking and hadn't asked anyone to help her. She was from California and had been in Washington, DC for graduate school when the world had went to hell. She was majoring in English literature and had been a feminist and a vegetarian.

And now she had a huge crush on him.

Daryl wanted to be flattered, but he couldn't seem to muster the energy to do so. She was nice and attractive, but he just couldn't seem to give a fuck about it. He knew he should be trying to make a connection, to want to be with another human being, but he'd been alone so long that maybe now he was broken or something. But there was this small annoying voice way deep down inside him that whispered something else. Something that he refused to even hear.

Daryl watched Maggie and Glenn, both of them loving and comfortable with each other. He'd been there from the beginning and no matter what happened, the two of them remained deeply in love and committed to one another, never giving up. Why couldn't he have that? Why didn't he want to have that? He looked at Melissa, who was currently laughing at something Maggie was saying. _Come on, Dixon. Pull your head out of your ass._

Melissa turned to him then and leaned towards him. "How'd you learn to use your crossbow? You're like Katniss from the Hunger Games."

Daryl just stared at her, while Maggie and Glenn fought to keep from laughing.

* * *

Daryl sat on Rick's porch smoking a cigarette, idly watching the smoke trail float above his head. It was well after two in the morning, but Daryl couldn't sleep. He couldn't shut his mind off, as preoccupied as it was with the revelation of his total non-interest in Melissa the Airhead. As cute as she was, he was totally turned off to her. Her voice, her conversation, her not wanting to eat meat. Just stupid. But it didn't make any sense.

The world was ending, partners were scarce. He should be lusting after the first thing that even looked like a woman. But he wasn't. He hadn't been. Not even before he came to Alexandria. He wasn't interested in Carol or Beth. Not Maggie, Andrea, Michonne, Rosita, Sasha, Tara…none of them had even interested him in the slightest. There were others too, over the years…and he hadn't even got hard thinking about any of them. He had originally chalked it up to things were too unstable, dangerous. Living day to day. Just trying to survive the walkers, other groups, starvation.

But others had managed to be involved, even with all of that happening. Like Lori getting pregnant with Judith and Maggie with Glenn. And what about now, that things were settled? They were safe in Alexandria for the moment, had been for months now. So why wasn't he settled? What was wrong with him?

Melissa had clearly shown interest in getting to know Daryl better after Maggie and Glenn left, but Daryl had also begged off, not even trying to notice her vast disappointment in his lack of interest in kissing her. He'd practically fled the place and had ducked out to walk the woods, his mind in turmoil. By the time he'd got back to Rick's, he'd been forced to listen to the bedsprings and the moans again and he couldn't stand it tonight. So porch it was.

He'd just flung his cigarette away when he saw a familiar looking shadow walking crossing one of the streets in the distance. Daryl stood up and squinted. Was that?

Yes.

Paul.

Daryl felt something move through him at the sight of the other man. It'd been almost three weeks since Daryl had seen him. He'd been wanting to apologize, but had started to wonder if he would ever come back from Hilltop. He'd never been gone this long and Daryl realized with a jolt that he'd missed him. They'd been through a lot together, saved each other's asses over the course of the last year.

So Daryl left the porch and headed down the street towards Paul, who had been walking towards Aaron's home. He put on a burst of speed, wanting to intercept him before he went into the house. As it turned out, Paul had sat on the porch steps as well and was looking up at the stars. He lowered his head when he heard Daryl approach and then just watched him.

Daryl suddenly felt nervous and he cleared his throat.

"Hey man."

Paul nodded at him and then looked up at the stars again and Daryl knew he'd fucked up. Paul seemed closed off now, none of the friendly smile or bright eyes for him.

"Look…I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it." Daryl said in a rush, and his hand flew to his mouth to start biting his nails. He was definitely nervous.

Paul looked at him, silent.

"I know you don't believe me. But I'm serious. I…don't know why I said that. It was fucked up and I just…it just came out. I'm sorry, Paul. I really am."

"If it just came out, that must be how you really feel, Daryl. Not surprised though. Look where you come from. Some back hills in Georgia? Some trailer park?"

Daryl snarled at him. "Hey asshole…I'm trying to apologize, aiight? I admit I was wrong and I shouldn't have called you that. I don't have a problem like that. My father and brother did and they said it all the time. Don't make it right, but…I fucked up, okay? I'm trying to make it right. You saved my life back there and I…took it all wrong. I should've thanked you and I didn't. I want to thank you. For saving my life. And I'm sorry."

Daryl turned to leave, angry at himself for the whole thing and pissed at Paul for being a dick about it. Paul didn't have to accept his apology, but Daryl kind of assumed he would. Paul was such an easy going guy. Hell, he forgave Rick for killing that asshole friend of his at Hilltop and he barely knew Rick. So much for his attempt to make things right.

"Daryl."

Daryl slowed but he didn't turn around.

"Why out so late?"

Daryl turned around and stared at Paul for a minute and then stated, "Too noisy at Rick's."

Paul smirked. "I'm sure. Walked in on them, remember?"

Daryl made a face and Paul laughed. "They called out, Jesus! And I said, yes, I'm here?"

Daryl gaped at Paul and then laughed out loud. "You're a dumbass." And just like that, the tension melted away.

"I've been called worse," Paul said lightly as he stood up. "Maybe it's time for you to get your own place here. There's nothing but empty houses around here. I'd say you earned yourself one."

Daryl opened his mouth to deny that, but then stopped. His own place?

"What would I do with my own place?"

Paul grinned at him. "Well for one, not listen to sex you're not having." He nodded at him and then jogged up the steps. "It's been a long day, so I'm saying good night."

Daryl watched as he disappeared into the house, leaving him to ponder the other man's words. Get his own place here. He hadn't even thought about it. Maybe it was time to get his own. Now that Rick and Michonne were a thing, they would want some privacy. They already had Judith and Carl to contend with, he was just taking up another room.

He went back to his room and got back in the bed again. He had something to think about, but before he could really weigh his options, he was sound asleep. Something had obviously soothed his restless spirit, but he was going to pretend he didn't know what that was.

* * *

Carol blinked at Daryl, who was leaning on the counter in her kitchen and sharpening his knife.

"You're getting your own house? What brought that on?"

Daryl shrugged. "Bout time. Rick and Michonne need some space. Never really had my own. Lived with Merle or some other asshole, or my pops."

Carol peered closely at him as Daryl continued to sharpen his knife. "Have you picked one yet?"

"Nah…but Maggie gave me the list of the empty ones. I'm gonna go look."

Carol wiped her hands on a nearby towel and nodded. "I'll come with you."

The list included two single homes and three townhouses. Daryl wasn't sure he wanted a full house when it was just him, which seemed unfair. But he did like the yard in the backs of them. The townhouses were nice too and it had garages where he could put his motorcycle. All were very large and spacious and had several bedrooms.

They were just coming out of the last townhouse when they ran into Paul, who was walking with Heath. Paul nodded to both of them and then looked at Daryl.

"House hunting?" He said with a smirk.

"Yeah, they're too big though. Don't need all that. Just me," Daryl replied, not noticing the surprised look on Carol's face as she watched the exchange.

"Get a roommate. Have someone live in the basement or something. More people will come soon. Better grab something while you can. Aaron said he's going to start recruiting again," Paul said and Daryl nodded.

"Take a house," Carol said flatly. "Work it out later." She stepped off the curb and called back to Daryl, "I gotta get back. I'm watching Judith now. Pick one of the houses and we'll plan a housewarming."

Daryl sputters after her, "What? No!"

Carol stopped and fixed him with an icy stare. "You're having a housewarming. Deal with it." She walked away, leaving the three men silent in her wake.

As soon as she was out of earshot Heath cooed, "Get your registry ready, Daryl!"

"Fuck off," Daryl said in annoyance and walked off, leaving Paul and Heath chuckling.

* * *

The housewarming turned out to be a huge success and Daryl actually had a great time. He had selected the smaller of the two single family houses, which also was the most isolated, which suited him just fine. His family group all came, bringing various practical items for him to use as a single, angry hunter. Maggie and Glenn brought bed and bathroom linen, Michonne and Rick, kitchen supplies. Carol brought some DVD's and Abraham gave him a toolbox. Other Alexandria residents brought various household items, which Daryl accepted awkwardly.

Melissa brought him a crocheted blanket with his initials and Daryl simply gaped at her.

"So you'll think of me when you snuggle up late at night," she whispered to him and Daryl's face flamed red. Carol watched with interest. Bingo.

But Paul brought the best gift of all. Five cases of beer.

Daryl grabbed the man in a bear hug.

"That's what I'm talking about!" It was only after he'd stowed some of them in the refrigerator did he realize that he'd hugged the man. In front of everyone. It was too late to be embarrassed about it. Abraham hovered pretty close to him after that, clearly wanting a beer.

"Where'd you get these, Jesus?" Abraham bellowed out, not even waiting for them to get cold before downing it hot.

"Not revealing my stash," Paul said with a laugh, "but Daryl's going to kill you if you drink up all his new beer!"

"Damn straight," Daryl said, lifting his beer in salute.

After several hours of some drinks, laughter and food, the party began winding down and people started leaving for the night. Michonne hugged him and told them she was going to miss him from being down the hall and leaving the bathroom a mess. Daryl bit his lip and she laughed, telling him she was joking.

Carol, Aaron, Paul, and Melissa were the last guests to stay and help clean up. Carol watched Melissa closely and confirmed that the woman definitely had a thing for Daryl. No doubt she was the one who had given Daryl these mysterious gifts he'd mentioned. Now as for Paul, Carol hadn't figured out who the person was in Alexandria, but since he'd stayed so long at Hilltop, she concluded the new beau must be there. She smiled to herself, amused with her deductive skills.

Daryl had had a few beers and was nice and buzzed. It had been so long since they'd had any beer. He was truly excited about that gift and inexplicably happy that Paul had forgiven him for his mistake. The party had turned out well, and those were things he normally shunned in the real world. Or he would sit in a corner and nurse whatever liquor was available. But he'd enjoyed the night and it was now sinking in that he had his first "home". He kind of wished that Merle could see the place. They'd never had anything close to it back home.

Melissa was being a bit clingy, and Daryl still wasn't in the mood to deal with her. But he let her give him a kiss on the cheek, and she brightened up considerably when he thanked her for the blanket. He noticed Carol looking on approvingly and he winced. She'd better not be trying to play matchmaker. He was already pissed at Maggie for forcing him to attend that dinner in the first place. But luckily, Melissa was tired and was ready to go home, so Daryl didn't have to come up with a way to get rid of her.

Carol left with Melissa and Aaron, both claiming early mornings. That left Paul, who was nursing his beer on the couch. Daryl came over to join him, carrying the DVD's.

"Oh…what chu get?" Paul asked loudly and then laughed. Daryl made a face at him.

"You a lightweight like that?" Daryl said, but even his head was swimming after only three beers.

Paul waved his bottle around. "It's been a long time since I've had any. And never was a big drinker anyway. Mostly did it to unwind. I loved my job, so that wasn't too stressful for me." He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes.

Daryl watched him and took another swig of his beer. Something had been on his mind that he'd been wanting to ask.

"You said you had a brother and sister. Nieces. What about…you know…" He gestured with his hand and almost spilled some of his beer.

"You mean a boyfriend?" Paul didn't open his eyes.

Daryl felt himself flush. "Yeah."

Paul sighed and said quietly, "Yeah…Chris. Was with him seven years. He was an agent. He was married when I met him." Paul snorted and took a sip. "Living a lie, all that mess. Didn't want to admit anything. But he approached me. Divorced her. And we were happy. Until he decided he wasn't anymore. Left me about six months before he became a walker. He came to me when he got sick. I watched him turn."

"Fuck. Sorry man. Didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's all right. Long time ago. Makes it kind of scary to open up again. But the world ending gives all of us a good excuse to not be bothered with it. But people still find a way to come together, ya know?"

Daryl mumbled in agreement and drank more of his beer. A companionable silence fell over them and they both continued to drink.

Paul finished his beer and turned to Daryl. "So what about you? Who made you feel good?"

Daryl shrugged and fiddled with his bottle. "Nobody really. Just some fuck buddies. Nothing ever serious. Maybe Kathy Lejarvis in the 9th grade, I wanted to marry her."

Paul laughed out loud and watched Daryl with drowsy eyes. "Fuck buddies, eh? You got those?"

"Nah." Daryl felt something shift inside of him and the air in the room seemed to grow a bit more stifling.

"Everyone needs a fuck buddy. Someone to make you feel good sometimes. Blowjob or something."

Daryl's throat tightened and he almost choked on his beer. He set it down.

"Uh huh," Daryl rasped out. What the fuck was going on? What were they talking about here? Daryl stared at the other man, who was still watching him with half-lidded eyes.

"Daryl," Paul said quietly.

Daryl knew what was coming next. He knew what Paul was suggesting. Fuck. He wanted to be pissed and throw him out, but he wasn't feeling outraged at the moment. He was feeling something much more disturbing. He'd gotten rid of Melissa, with no thoughts of anything sexual, but now he was feeling somewhat intrigued by Paul's hinting. A month ago, he'd punched the guy in the mouth for a kiss as they were about to die and now he was entertaining what exactly.

His dick knew what. Because it was stirring. Paul was looking at him with those eyes, those eyes that Daryl had been thinking about for months now. Fuck.

"Daryl," Paul whispered again and Daryl shut his eyes.

 _Say no, get up, punch him in the face_ …

Daryl swallowed and stared at the other man. He licked his lips, trying to moisten them because his whole mouth had dried out. Paul sat up and just looked at him. And still no words came out of Daryl's mouth. It was like his brain had completely turned off for the night. Nobody home.

Daryl watched him, wary as a deer in headlights as Paul set his beer down and got up off the couch.

Daryl let him come.

* * *

Paul moved towards Daryl slowly, not wanting to spook the guy. Although he hadn't given verbal permission, Paul was going to take his silence.

The lights were on in the living room and kitchen, so Paul decided that this would be done best in the dark, so Daryl wouldn't have to really see what was happening. He didn't want the man to freak out and mess up this opportunity. He moved to turn out the lights and heard Daryl pick up his beer again. Liquid courage.

Paul walked back over to him and kneeled down on the floor in front of him. Daryl was watching him intently, the grip on his beer so tight Paul was surprised he hadn't crushed it. Paul ran his hands lightly on Daryl's legs and the other man flinched. Paul pulled his hands away. No caressing then. Gotcha.

Daryl's breathing was heavy, as he was clearly nervous, so Paul decided to move things along and get him into it quickly, before he changed his mind. Paul moved to unbutton Daryl's jeans and unzipped them, revealing the top of Daryl's underwear. He hesitated, giving Daryl a moment to really absorb what was happening, but not wanting him too aware of it. When Paul still didn't get punched in the face, he leaned forward and slowly reached into his underwear and gently pulled out Daryl's cock.

Both men sighed heavily, almost as if it was rehearsed. Daryl's cock was still mostly soft, but Paul wasn't overly concerned yet. They'd been drinking, so sometimes it took a minute to get things going. Besides, Daryl was experiencing something new here, something that had made him become violent less than a month ago.

Paul gently stroked his cock and then leaned over and took him in his mouth, enveloping him fully. Daryl let out a deep breath and Paul began to suck him gently, sighing as Daryl's cock became engorged and filled his mouth. He was pleasantly surprised by how nicely endowed the other man was and he started sucking hungrily, alternating between deep sucks and licks around the thick head.

Daryl gave a low groan and Paul sucked eagerly. His own cock was hardening rapidly, but Paul couldn't be bothered to worry about it at the moment. The only important thing right now was making Daryl feel good and make him want to do this again. He'd wanted this for a long time and he wanted to do it right.

Daryl was breathing heavy and his hips had started to rock a bit, thrusting up into Paul's wet, sucking warmth. He hadn't grabbed Paul or touched him in any way, but his finger had dug hard into the couch arm. Paul sucked Daryl down as far as he could and hummed and Daryl cursed, his fingers scrabbling on the cushions.

Normally, Paul would be more adventurous while he was pleasuring a partner, but knowing that would probably not go over so well, he kept to the basics. No rimming or sucking Daryl's balls or anything else related to that. Daryl was responding well to what he was doing, so he didn't want to rock the boat. Paul could taste the salty pre-cum that had flowed from Daryl's thick cock head, readying for his needed release. And Paul was definitely going to give it to him.

Paul sucked in his cheeks and worshipped Daryl's length, causing the man to moan loudly and thrust hard into his mouth. Paul let him, opening his throat as best he could and let Daryl use his mouth for his need. Paul could tell he was close, because his sex had swelled even larger and had grown harder and harder with each thrust. Daryl was grunting now, his thrusting a bit erratic, his fingers practically tearing the fabric off the couch.

Paul pulled up a bit and sucked the head and Daryl cried out and Paul felt the hard pulse as Daryl pumped warm liquid deep into his mouth. Paul swallowed at each hard pump, his mouth flooded with warmth. He swallowed again and again, moaning around his length. His own cock was rock hard and aching and he'd have to take care of it very soon. Daryl gave one last groan and fell back against the couch. Paul pulled away from his cock carefully, making sure to lick any missed liquid so as not to spill any on Daryl. He then licked his lips and slowly tucked Daryl back in.

He didn't look up at him, knowing that would be probably be too much for the man.

* * *

Daryl felt like his entire body had been sucked out through his cock. It had been so long since he'd had a blowjob and then to have one so good. Paul had an amazing mouth. Paul. Paul!

Daryl's eyes snapped open and he stared at the ceiling in horror. He'd just let Paul suck him off. Paul! Shit!

The other man was still kneeling in front of him and from the movement that Paul was doing, Daryl suspected he was jacking himself. He closed his eyes again, not wanting to witness that fucking sight. He heard the sound of skin slapping quickly and then a low moan and grunt, followed by a curse. Paul was panting and then another long moan. Daryl chanced a look and all he saw was the top of Paul's head as he was looking down at himself.

Daryl couldn't believe that this had just happened. Was he that drunk? He didn't feel overly intoxicated, so he must have been very much in his right frame of mind. But why would he have allowed this? Not even a hint of protest. What the hell!

But he didn't have any time to dwell on it, because Paul was standing up. He didn't say anything, but grabbed his bottles of beer and took them to the trash. After he fiddled around in the kitchen for a minute, he came back out and headed towards the door.

"Had a great time at the party tonight. Enjoy the beer. Good night." And he walked out without another word, leaving Daryl to stare after him in confusion.

* * *

Outside on the porch, Paul smirked to himself.


End file.
